

| LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 





THE 


SIBERIAN EXILE. 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 
Karl GUSTAV WrITZ. 


BY 

MARY E. IRELAND. 





2£ic!tmott&t 13a* : 

Presbyterian Committee of Publication. 
1894. 


I 




Copyrighted 


by 


J A S. K. H A Z E N, Secretary of Publication, 

1894. 

3</iox 


Printed by 

Whittet & Shepperson, 
Richmond, Va. 


To Her 

Valued 

MISS FRANCES C. BROWN, 

OF 

patcHogUe, Long island, 

iN LoViNg remembrance of HAPPY daYs together as 

CLASSMATES 

in union Hall seminary, Jamaica, long island, 

this BEAUTIFUL STORY of CHRISTIAN HOME LIFE IN 
RUSSIA AND SIBERIA 

IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED by 

the TR/\NsLMOFi. 


Washington , D. C. 













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CONTENTS. 


Page. 

CHAPTER I. 

The Cloth Merchant’s Family, ... 7 


Little Minka, 

CHAPTER H. 

15 


CHAPTER m. 


What Was Lost in the Fiacre, . . . 27 


The Arrest, 

CHAPTER IV. 

39 


CHAPTER V. 


A Letter from Irkutsk, .... 51 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Journey to Siberia, .... 65 

CHAPTER VH. 


The Government Arrest, 


76 


6 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 


chapter ym. 

A Happy Meeting, 88 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Free Man, 103 

CHAPTER X. 

A Happy Reunion, ..... 113 




The Siberian exile. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE CLOTH MERCHANT'S FAMILY. 
HERE is mother, Natalie?” inquired 



Oscar Tiefenbach, as he came into the 


sitting-room of a handsome dwelling in Mos- 
cow, and threw his cap and school-books upon 
the sofa. 

“She is in the office, she wished to see papa, 
but I don’t think he has come from the fabric.” 

“Not ‘fabric] but ‘ manufactory ,’” corrected 
Oscar, with the air of an instructor. “ Faber is 
a Latin word, having the significance of our 
German word e Smith.’ So, a fabric is a place 
where the work is done by the help of iron 
and fire. Manus means hand, and facia , to 
make ; it follows that manufactory is a place 
where work is done by hand; and as that is 
the way papa’s cloth is made, fabric is incor- 


rect.” 


7 


8 


The Siberian Exile. 


“You are very wise and learned,” com- 
mented Natalie, with a hint of sarcasm in her 
voice, “but I intend to sa y fabric because it 
is the shorter ; the Russians say it ; they could 
not bother with such a long word as manu- 
factory .” 

“There is exactly where you are mistaken;” 
the Russians have much longer words than 
we find in Latin, sometimes five syllables. It 
is no use for me to try, I shall never learn to 
speak Russian.” 

“Then I should be proud,” rejoined Nata- 
lie, “for I know many words, although we 
have lived here such a short time. Dobri , 
means good ; schistekajouste, means sour -krout ; 
nusche , means knife ; massla , butter ; ni russi- 
mi popolski, tzschischik, tzschischik latibo, 
ukalatsche wo du bil — .” 

“Oh! do hush, Natalie, there is nothing I 
hate worse than hearing people reading or 
talking in a languge I cannot understand; but 
listen! I hear wheels stopping before our 
house.” 

Both rushed to the windows, which com- 
manded a view of the street. 


9 


The Cloth Merchant' s Family. 

“It is a splendid court carriage with six 
horses, and coachman and footman in livery; 
and everybody making respectful greetings ! 
Who can it be ? ” said Natalie. 

“It has stopped before the door of papa’s 
office, and a noble-looking gentleman with stars 
and orders on his breast is going in,” said 
Oscar; “what a pity papa is at the fabric.” 

“ Man-u-fac-to-ry,” corrected his sister, glee- 
fully ; “ our learned brother is in such a hurry 
he cannot take time to wrestle with a long 
word.” 

“It is your fault,” replied Oscar, reddening, 
“ when one has to associate with people who 
speak ungrammatically, he is sure to fall into 
their errors ; but how will mamma manage ; no 
doubt he has come to buy cloth, and she 
knows nothing about the business, and will 
not like to talk to such a great man ; I am sure 
he is a prince.” 

“Don’t you worry about mamma, she is not 
afraid of the nobility ; she has always been in 
good society, and could talk to the Czar as 
calmly as to one of the workmen at papa’s- 
man-u-fac-to-ry;” she concluded, roguishly. 


10 


The Siberian Exile. 


“ Oh ! I wish he would give a big order for 
cloth, it would please papa so much,” said 
Oscar; “hark! mamma is talking to him in 
French, can you understand what she is saying, 
Natalie?” 

The girl listened attentively, but could only 
catch a word here and there. 

“I heard her say drap , that means cloth; 
Oh! I just suppose he wishes to buy cloth for 
the servants of his household ; these great peo- 
ple have a little army of them.” 

“Yes, the more honor the more servants,” 
remarked Oscar. 

“ But we are no higher here than we were in 
Berlin, yet there we only kept two servants ; 
here we have four,” rejoined Natalie. 

“ See, the gentleman is going ; he has stepped 
into his carriage, and is speaking to his coach- 
man, who has a beard as long as that of the 
Polish Jews who used to pass through Berlin 
on their way to the fair at Leipsic. In Russia 
a long beard is considered an ornament. . I am 
glad papa does not wear one.” 

At that moment a tall, handsome-looking lady 
opened the door between the office and sitting- 


The Cloth Me}' chant' s Family. 11 

room, her sweet countenance beaming with 
pleasure. 

“ Dear Oscar,” said she, “ how glad I am that 
you are home from school. I wish you to go 
to the factory and tell your father that Prince 
Bibikoff has been here, and is intending to 
order cloth for the Russian army, and wishes 
samples and prices immediately. It will be a 
great thing for us if your father gets the con- 
tract, and I am sure he will come home as soon 
as he can to see to it.” 

Oscar saw the need of haste, and was off as 
soon as his mother had done speaking, for the 
factory was in one of the suburban villages of 
Moscow, named Dorogomilow, requiring three- 
fourths of an hour to reach it. He ran until he 
grew tired, then seeing a drosky, which in Rus- 
sia is a long, four-wheeled vehicle without a 
top, that appeared to be going in that direction, 
he ran, and placing his hands upon the back of 
it, asked, a little girl, the only passenger, if it 
would take him to Dorogomilow. 

She understood the last word, and nodded in 
the affirmative, and he sprang in and took a 
seat beside her. He noticed that she was 


12 


The Siberian Exile. 


poorly dressed, seemed timid, and look anxious, 
and cast frequent glances toward the driver 
who had whipped his horses to a quick pace. 
At length, to his astonishment, she sprang up 
and threw her arms about his neck and bent 
over him to protect him, for at that moment 
the driver’s whip came down with force, mak- 
ing red welts upon the bare neck and arms of 
the girl, and bringing tears of pain to her eyes. 
Most children would have screamed at being so 
hurt, but this little one only gave Oscar a push 
and whispered “paschol” (away), and seeing 
another stroke about to descend, he jumped to 
the ground. He beckoned the girl to follow, 
showing her the money which would pay for 
both in another drosky, but she only shook her 
head and wrapped her smarting arms in her 
apron, and in a few minutes had disappeared 
from view. 

Oscar was so bewildered by the suddenness 
of the attack, the defence, and his quick exit 
from the wagon, that for a moment he forgot 
his errand, but seeing the factory in the dis- 
tance brought it to his memory; he hurried 
on, gave his father the message, not forget- 


The Cloth Merchant s Family. 13 

ting to tell liim also of the cruelty of the 
driver of the drosky. 

Herr Tiefenbach was not only surprised, 
but indignant over this, and would have made 
it his business to search out the driver had 
not the message sent by his wife filled his 
mind to the exclusion of other matters, and he 
hurried home to consult with her, and to send 
the samples and terms to the Prince Bibikoff. 

All was satisfactory ; he received the con- 
tract, and in addition to the sum of money it 
would bring to him, he was gratified that the 
Government reposed this confidence in his in- 
tegrity and truthfulness. A good name was to 
him more than riches, and he knew that he 
was respected and esteemed in Moscow as he 
had been in Berlin, and this contract was 
another evidence of it. He was given a lim- 
ited time in which to fulfill it, and his first 
business was to double the number of his 
work-people, and pay them extra for working 
beyond hours in order to complete it. 

Many wagon-loads of wool would be needed, 
many women and children employed in pick- 
ing it; then it must be thoroughly washed to 


14 The Siberian Exile. 

remove the oily substance from it, then carded 
upon pieces of wood with handles and iron 
teeth, making it smooth and fine, then made 
into long rolls the thickness of one’s finger, 
after which it was given to the spinners. 
These were women and children, and they had 
a great room in the factory to themselves, their 
merry voices accompanied by the humming of 
the wheels. The yarn thus spun went to the 
looms of the weavers, and from thence to the 
fulling-room, where the cloth was rendered 
compact and firm, shrinking fully one third in 
the process, then washed again, and dyed in 
great vats the color required. It was a slow 
process and required many helpers ; for it was 
in the year 1810, and machinery had not come 
into use for converting sheep’s wool into cloth. 
But it had one great advantage, that of giv- 
ing employment to many people, it being work 
that they were able and willing to perform. 

Herr Tiefenbach had not the least difficulty 
in securing all the help he needed; the fac- 
tory was a busy place, and all his work-peo- 
ple were proud that the contract had been 
given to them. 


CHAPTEK II. 

LITTLE MINKA. 

I T was a great gratification to Herr Tiefenbacli 
that all his employees entered into the spirit 
of the undertaking with such keen interest, and 
he resolved, besides paying them for work done 
before and after the regular hours, to give them 
a grand festival to celebrate the happy com- 
pletion of the contract, in which an abundance 
of refreshments, music and fire-works were to 
take a prominent part. 

He took care to make this known, that they 
might have the pleasure of anticipation, and the 
spinning-wheels in particular seemed to appre- 
ciate the coming jollity, and hummed merrily 
from early morning until late at night. 

One day during this busy time Herr Tiefen- 
bach came home from the factory and took his 
place at the dinner-table in a sad, pre-occupied 
manner, very unusual with him. 

15 


16 


The Siberian Exile. 


“ What is it that troubles you, dear George ? ” 
asked his wife, in an anxious tone; “I have 
not seen you so depressed for a long time.” 

“ I have cause, dear Leontine, but I did not 
intend to bring my vexations home to you ; but 
the secretary of Prince Bibikoff came to the 
factory to-day and asked for a private inter- 
view with me, the object of which was to inform 
me that it was through his influence that I ob- 
tained the contract for supplying the cloth to 
the army, and that I should give him a percen- 
tage of what I received for the service lie had 
done me. I could not help being astonished 
at such a demand, and told him promptly that 
the good quality of my cloth, and the punctu- 
ality with which it was supplied after being 
ordered, was the reason for my getting the 
contract.” 

“What did he say to that?” asked Frau 
Tiefenbach, eagerly. 

“ He said I should pay his demand or suffer 
the consequences, for he would be revenged 
upon me.” 

“ What was his demand ? ” 


“Twenty thousand rubles.” 


Little Minka. 


17 


“ Twenty thousand ! ” exclaimed Fran Tiefen- 
bach, in astonishment, “how conld he have 
the heart to make such a demand ? ” 

“I don’t know, but in my indignation I spoke 
perhaps too plainly of the meanness which 
prompted him to try to take advantage of me, 
and said I would pay him nothing ; that I did 
not fear his revenge; that the contract was 
already in my hands, and he could not take it 
from me.” 

“ Did he seem angry ? ” 

“Yes, he went away muttering something in 
his own language. He is a Frenchman, and I 
do not understand that dialect well enough to 
catch what he said.” 

“ Oh ! dear George, ” said his wife, anxiously, 
“ do see him, and make some arrangement with 
him, even if you are not indebted to him for 
the contract.” 

“Why should I give away the profits of 
my work to one who has not the least right 
to claim a groschen? He would have gone 
to any cloth merchant who was fortunate 
enough to secure the contract and made the 
same demand, and no honest man would put 
2 


18 


The Siberia n Exile . 


it in liis power to have it said it was pay- 
ment for a bribe, any more than he would be 
willing to accept a contract won by bribery.” 

“ But he may yet use some influence to take 
the contract from you-.” 

“No, I have the Emperor’s word, and a 
clear conscience ; he can do as he pleases, he 
cannot hurt me. 

“But the Emperor is far away; and some- 
times small insects are poisonous.” 

“I am not afraid of all he can do; but if 
he annoys me again, I shall make it my busi- 
ness to see Prince Bibikoff, and tell him the 
kind of man his French secretary really is.” 

“Would it not be better to see him without 
waiting for another demand?” 

“No, I don’t like to stir up dissension if I 
can help it ; I spoke so plainly to him that I 
don’t think he will trouble me again.” 

Frau Tiefenbach said nothing, and her hus- 
band continued : 

“ There was another thing that troubled me 
this morning quite as much as the demand 
of the French secretary. You know, that ow- 
ing to the increase of work, I gave Elinsky, 


Little Minka . 


19 


my manager, increase of wages ; did it of my 
own free will, and you may know my surprise 
wlien lie came to me upon overhearing the 
demand of the secretary and demanded more; 
saying that he would leave my employ if re- 
fused. He was more determined upon this, 
knowing that the cloth had to be delivered at 
a certain time, and supposed it impossible for 
me to get a manager in time to keep the work 
going on at the present activity. But he 
found he had over-reached himself ; I received 
his notice to leave, with calmness, accepted it, 
paid him what was due him, and before he 
had reached his home had appointed my 
trusty German book-keeper to the position of 
manager, and will attend myself to the books 
until I can employ a capable man to fill Bind- 
nagle’s place as book-keeper.” 

“Was Bindnagel pleased with the change?” 

“ Delighted ; and thanked me again and 
again. He was a faithful clerk, and will be 
equally so as a manager, and far more popu- 
lar among the work-people than was Klinsky; 
so it is better all around, yet it woiTied me 
during this busy and somewhat exciting time 


20 


The Siberian Exile . 


to have disturbance with any of my employees. 
Truly there is no jfieasure upon earth that has 
not its bitterness.” 

“It is what we must expect, dear husband, 
in this life. If all went smoothly with us, this 
world would be too dear to us, and we would 
not try to prepare for a better one. Do not 
be too depressed over these vexations; like 
other troubles, they will pass away.” 

A day or too after this conversation Natalie 
went to the factory to see her father, and after 
finishing her errand went into the spinning- 
room, which was a great attraction to her, and 
at the door found a little girl crying bitterly. 
She was very poorly dressed, and across arms 
and neck were blue marks, looking as if made 
by strokes from a heavy whip. 

“Who is this little girl, and why does she 
cry?” inquired Natalie of the new manager, 
Bindnagel. 

“ I don’t know who she is, but she wishes to 
learn to spin, and none of our women and girls 
have time to teach her. I have told her this, 
but she will not go away, but has stood here 
more than an hour.” 


Little Minlca. 


21 


“Oh! the poor girl,” said Natalie; “look at 
the bruised places on her neck and arms, I 
wonder what hurt her.” 

Bindnagel spoke to the child in Russian, and 
upon receiving her answer, turned to the daugh- 
ter of his employer. 

“ She says she dare not tell who struck her;” 
said he in German. 

“ I will tell you who she is, and who hurt 
her,” said one of the spinners who was seated 
with her wheel near the open door, and had 
overheard the conversation; “her name is Min- 
ka Milowitzsch, and is the daughter of a drosky 
driver. They live close by me, and he treats 
this poor child cruelly when he is under the in- 
fluence of liquor. Minka is so afraid of him 
that she dare not tell how he beats her.” 

“Oh! the poor little girl,” exclaimed Natalie 
when Bindnagel interpreted the Russian 
woman’s words, “ somebody ought to take her 
from him, surely people are wicked not to help 
her.” 

“Who would interfere?” replied Bindnagel, 
sadly, “it would only make it harder for the 
poor child.” 


22 


The Siberian Exile . 


Then little Minka looked from one to the 
other, but said nothing. 

“I have told you that no one has time to 
teach you to spin;” said Bindnagel to her in 
Russian; “go home now like a good child, and 
when our hurry is over you may come and 
some one will teach you.” 

Minka did not heed, but stood looking in- 
tently at the whirring wheels. 

“Why don’t you obey me, child?” said the 
manager, a little impatiently. 

“ Because I can learn to spin by looking at 
the others, if you will only let me stay.” 

“ Oh, child, you can never learn in that way, 
besides you are too little, you have not strength 
tq turn the wheel.” 

“Only try me, I am not so weak as I look. 

“ What does she say? ” questioned Natalie. 

“ She wants me to give her a wheel and let 
her try.” 

“Oh, do, Herr Bindnagel, she can do it no 
harm.” 

“ No ; she shall try ; ” and the manager went 
to a distant corner of the spinning-room and 
brought a wheel and stool, and set them before 


Little Minka. 23 

her, and put into her hands some refuse rolls 
of wool. 

Minka went to work eagerly, and to the sur- 
prise of all, made a very fair attempt at it, the 
thread being somewhat uneven to be sure, but 
proving that she would be an adept at spinning, 
had she the opportunity to learn, but her fore- 
head grew damp with exertion, and she trem- 
bled with excitement. 

“See now,” said Bindnager, “I was right; 
you are not strong enough to spin, you have 
only tried it a few minutes and are exhausted ; 
how would it be to spin hours together without 
rest?” 

“ I would soon get used to it,” said Minka, 
“ only let me earn enough to get plenty to eat, 
and my strength would come, and I could 
spin all day.” 

“But, child, there are other things required 
of the spinners in this factory. You will notice 
that everybody is clean and neat ; Herr Tiefen- 
bach would not employ one who was not ; 
your dress has as many holes in it as there are 
weeks in the year, and who could put the snow- 
white rolls of wool in such hands as yours ? ” 


24 


The Siberian Exile. 


The little girl turned crimson with shame, 
and stood scraping the floor with her toes. 

“ Come again, sometime, clean and neat, and 
with your hair brushed, and we will see if we 
cannot make room for you ; ” added the man- 
ager, kindly, and Minka went slowly out, fol- 
lowed by Natalie, who put a piece of silver in 
her hand. 

“Poor little Minka,” said she, compassion- 
ately, “take this, it will get you something to 
eat.” 

The child answered only by a flood of tears, 
and hurried away, while Natalie returned to the 
spinning-room for a little while to watch the 
spinners, then went home, and at the tea-table 
told of her meeting with Minka. 

“I wonder if she is the little girl who saved 
me from the blows from the driver’s whip the 
day I rode in the drosky ? ” said Oscar; “ was 
she a thin, pale girl, and poorly dressed?” 

“ Yes ; she was ragged, and said she did not 
get enough to eat. I felt so sorry for her when 
Herr Bindnagel said she was not neat enough 
to work in the spinners’ room.” 

“I am sorry he told her in the hearing of the 


Little Minka. 25 

spinners, slie will be ashamed to come again,” 
remarked the mother. 

But in this she was mistaken, for in a few 
days Minka appeared again at the factory, 
looking very different from her first visit there. 
She was as clean as soap and water could make 
her ; her hair was neatly braided and caught up 
from her neck by a wooden comb with three 
teeth, which she had with much labor cut from 
hard wood, the frequent cuts upon her hands- 
showing it had been painful work. 

Her dress had been carefully washed, and 
patched with different colors, the stitches prov- 
ing that she had not trusted it to more skilful 
hands than her own. She seemed well satisfied 
with her improved appearance, and with an 
air of confidence took her place at the 
wheel. 

“ Poor child, she has a hard time at home.” 
remarked one of the spinners; “Milowitzch 
neglects her shamefully ; sometimes she is alone 
in their cabin half the night, and with nothing 
to eat except what the neighbors give her, and 
we all have as much as we can do to care for 
our own children.” 


26 


The Siberian Exile. 


“Here is a piece of bread, little girl,” said 
another, it is all I can spare to-day.” 

Minka took it and ate it with relish, while 
Natalie, who stood by, could not keep the tears 
from filing her eyes at the thought of any one 
not having all they could eat. When she went 
home she told her mother of the poverty of the 
little one, and together they planned to send a 
large basket of clothes which Natalie had out- 
grown, and some nourishing articles of food for 
the little girl. It was decided that Risika, the 
faithful middle-aged woman who had been 
with Herr and Frau Tiefenbach all their mar- 
ried life, and a devoted nurse to their three 
children, should be the bearer of the basket ; 
and her kind heart was gratified by this oppor- 
tunity of giving joy ; but when she reached the 
cabin she found it deserted ; Minka was gone, 
no one knew where ; and Risika was forced to 
bring the basket home. 


CHAPTER III. 

WHAT WAS LOST IJST THE FIACRE. 

<c * I k O-DAY at eleven o’clock I am to call at 
A the war office and receive one hundred 
and eighty thousand rubles in payment for my 
cloth furnished to the Russian army;” re- 
marked Herr Tiefenbach one morning as the 
little family sat at breakfast. 

“How will you carry such a great sum?” 
questioned his wife. 

“It will be in paper money, and I will go di- 
rectly to the bank with it, and let it remain 
there until paid out to my work-people, and 
to the firms that supplied me with wool.” 

“Do you intend giving the secretary of the 
Prince Bibikoff anything for the service he 
said he had done for you? ” 

“ He is not entitled to a penny, for I am sure 
he had no influence in getting the commission 
for me ; at the same time he may think so, and 
if I see him to-day I will make him a present 
27 


28 


The Siberian Exile . 


of five hundred rubles, and so be free from his 
importunities and threats.” 

Herr Tiefenbach went to the government 
office, which was but a short distance away, 
received the large sum in Russian bank notes, 
placed them carefully in his pocket-book, which 
he kept in the inner breast-pocket of his coat, 
hailed a fiacre, and stepping in, was driven to 
the bank. 

When he reached it he paid the driver from 
some loose change in his pocket, saw him drive 
away, then entered the bank ; but when he 
searched for his pocket-book, he found it was 
gone. In vain he examined all his pockets, it 
was not there, and, almost sick from bewilder- 
ment and anxiety, he left the bank. 

Like one in a dream, he stood looking up 
and down the street with the faint hope of see- 
ing the fiacre that brought him there; and 
great drops of moisture stood upon his forehead 
as he thought of the spinners, weavers, fullers, 
cloth shearers, dyers, and others who were 
looking to him for their wages, besides the men 
who had supplied him with the wool for the 
great contract. 


What Was Lost in the Fiacre. 29 

He remembered taking tbe pocket-book out 
while in the fidcre to be sure the money was 
safe, for he felt the responsibility of having 
such a large sum about him, and believed that 
in putting it back he had missed the pocket, 
and it had fallen to the floor of the coach. 

His only hope was to find the fi&cre, and he 
roamed the streets of Moscow, scanning eagerly 
every driver and pair of horses he met, for he 
had not taken the number of the coach, and 
could only judge by appearance. 

At length, to his great joy, he saw it, and 
calling to the driver to halt, he entered, his 
heart so filled with anxiety that he scarcely 
knew what he did. The moment the door 
closed he felt over the cushions, but nothing 
was there ; then stooping he groped under the 
seat and — oh ! joy, his hand touched something, 
which, brought to the light, proved to be the 
pocket-book, the money all safe within. He 
knelt then and there and thanked God for this 
great relief, not only for himself, but for the poor 
people who had worked so hard and were de- 
pendent upon their earnings. Then he stopped 
the fiacre, descended, and spoke to the driver: 


30 


The Siberian Exile . 


“When I was in your carriage an hour or 
more ago,” said he, “I lost my pocket-book 
containing one hundred and eighty thousand 
rubles, and have had the great good fortune to 
find it again. It is such a great relief to me 
that I feel I must share my joy with you, so 
will make you a present of fifty rubles;” and, 
taking that sum from the roll, he handed it up 
to the coachman, who seemed too much sur- 
prised even to speak, but gazed in dumb be- 
wilderment at the donor, who was hurrying to- 
ward the bank. 

“Oh! the dumb, stupid lout that I am!” ex- 
claim the driver, gazing at the note in his hand, 
his usually red face pale with emotion. “To 
think I never searched the floor of the fidcre, 
as I always do after these rich people have 
been in it! Oh! to think, with one grasp I 
could have been a rich man, and, without do- 
ing another day’s work, would have had my 
own splendid carriages and horses, and dressed 
in broadcloth, and had the best of wines, and 
lived upon the richest food, instead of being 
hired by that villain Klinsky to drive his fi&cre 
and drosky, and take all his abuse without say- 


What Was Lost in the Fidcre. 31 

ing a word back, or lose my place ! Instead of 
sleeping on straw in bis stable, I could have 
had a bed of eider-down; and now all is lost 
through my own carelessness!” And he rolled 
the fifty-ruble note into a ball, and threw it 
violently upon the floor of the fidcre, in despair 
at having lost the opportunity of taking money 
which did not belong to him, and, though 
found by him, the keeping of it could have no 
other name than theft. 

When he reached the stables he descended 
sullenly from the box, unharnessed the horses,, 
and, without a thought of the bank-note lying 
on the floor of the fiacre, led them into the 
stalls, then lay down on the straw, from inabil- 
ity to do more. 

In the meantime little Minka had been 
watching for his return, and the moment he 
disappeared into the stable she mounted the 
fidcre, dust-brush in hand, it being her work 
to keep it in order. She saw the little ball of 
paper, and, unrolling it, found it to be money, 
and put it in her pocket to await his coming. 
Alas! he never came, for when Elinsky, who 
was incensed at his delay, went to see the 


32 


The Siberian Exile. 


cause, lie found him dead ; the great disap- 
pointment in not being able to appropriate the 
money belonging to another having, no doubt, 
hurried his death. 

In the meantime Herr Tiefenbach had 
reached home, and told his family of the loss 
and finding of his money, and all rejoiced that 
the workmen would get their wages; and that 
night at the family altar, prayer and thanks- 
giving arose for God’s goodness to them all. 

The next day was a holiday in school, and 
Herr Tiefenbach took the children — Oscar, 
Natalie, and little Otto — to visit the Kremlin, 
their first visit to the fortress or citadel of 
Moscow. From a distance they halted to look 
at the beautiful place, once the residence of 
the Czar, — his palace surrounded by those of 
his relatives and nobles ; and, being about two 
miles in circumference, and upon a hill, its 
gilded domes and minarets presented a splen- 
did appearance to the admiring eyes of the 
children. 

Cannon pointed through the high walls sur- 
rounding it; and, in addition to the palaces, 
there were churches and other handsome 


What Was Lost in the tiacy'e. 


33 


buildings within the enclosure, rendering the 
Kremlin a magnificent little city within a great 
one. 

“We call the forefathers of the Israelites, 
Abraham and Isaac and Jacob, patriarchs, and 
of them Abraham was the most noted for his 
piety,” remarked Herr Tiefenbach; “he lived 
in a tent, and his clothing was the skins of ani- 
mals. How amazed he would be at the sight 
of these splendid buildings ! And think of 
Melchisedech, king of Salem, who, being freed 
from the hands of his enemy by Abraham, re- 
ceived only a piece of bread and a cup of 
wine ; yet he blessed Abraham as no monarch 
of these days could do.” 

They went to the armory, and saw a cannon 
with a mouth so large that Oscar could sit 
in it. 

“I would like to see the ball that could be 
shot from it,” said he. 

“The person struck by it would never have 
the headache again,” remarked Natalie. 

“Now you must see another metal giant,” 
said the father, and he took them to the spot 
where stood the great bell of Moscow, the larg- 


3 


34 


The Siberian Exile. 


est in the world, being twenty-six feet high, 
the metal two feet in thickness, and weighing 
four hundred and forty thousand pounds. 
Forty persons can stand in it at one time ; and 
the piece which is broken out of it, owing to 
imperfect casting, weighs eleven tons. 

“But, papa, what caused it to break just 
there?” asked Natalie. 

“That will never be known to a certainty, 
dear; many thought it was owing to the jewels 
which the ladies of Russia contributed to the 
molten mass when it was being cast.” 

“Oh! papa, what a pity such a splendid bell 
should be here useless ! Can nothing be done 
to repair it ? ” 

“To make it of use it would have to be re- 
cast, which would cost a great sum of money, 
and it is doubtful if works from which to sus- 
pend it could be made strong enough to bear 
the great weight.” 

“I am going inside; won’t you go, Natalie? ” 
said Oscar. 

“No, indeed; it might sink into the earth 
and bury us.” 

Her father laughed, but did not insist upon 


What Was Lost in the Fiacre . 35 

her going, so Oscar crept into the aperture and 
looked at the great dome above him. He 
struck the sides with a stick, but it gave only a 
dull sound, the rim being sunk into the earth. 

Presently he gave a little cry of surprise, for 
he had stumbled over something that had life, 
and he feared it was a wild animal. 

“Who are you?” asked he, for he heard a 
voice, but could not understand the speech. 

“Papa, it is a little girl, and she does not 
answer to say who she is,” cried he. 

“Perhaps she does not understand German; 
let me speak to her in Bussian;” and he went 
to the opening, and spoke gently to the child, 
who came immediately and stood beside him. 

“Oh! papa, it is little Minka, who saved me 
from the blows of the driver’s whip ; I wonder 
why she is hiding in the bell ? ” 

Herr Tiefenbach questioned her in Eussian, 
and little Minka answered without hesitation 
that her father had died suddenly in the stable 
of Klinsky, which was their home, and having 
no place to go, she had taken shelter in the 
bell. 

“ When did you come here ? ” 


36 


The Siberian Exile. 


“ Yesterday, soon after father died.” 

“You surely must be hungry and thirsty?” 

“Not thirsty; I had a drink at the fountain 
on my way here ; I am used to being hungry.” 

That she told the truth, no one could doubt 
who looked at her thin cheeks and sunken 
eyes. 

“You must not stay here,” said Herr Tiefen- 
bach, “come home with us, and we will give 
you a good supper, and a comfortable place to 
sleep.” 

Minka was quick to obey, and put her little 
cold hand in that of Natalie, who had tears of 
sympathy in her eyes for the forlorn condition 
of the little one. 

“Oh! Minka,” said she, “why didn’t you 
come again to the factory ? mother had a bas- 
ket of clothes for you, and some good things to 
eat.” 

“My father would not let me; he put me in 
the cellar and said he would never give me any- 
thing to eat if he heard of me going there 
again. He drove a fidcre for Klinsky, who 
said if he let me go to the factory he would 
turn him out of employment. Father could not 


What Was Lost in the Fiacre. 37 

pay the rent where we were, so we went to live 
in Klinsky’s stable.” 

“ Have yon no mother ? ” said Natalie. 

“Oh, no, she died a good while ago. She 
was good and kind, but she cried much because 
my father would drink and was cross to us. 
She was always pale and weak.” 

Herr Tiefenbach had interpreted the ques- 
tions and answers, and now spoke to his children 
in German, which Minka could not understand. 

“I have often said to you that drunkenness 
makes men lower than dumb animals, con- 
verting them as it does into monsters of wicked- 
ness, and here w*e have an evidence of it.” 

They walked slowly homeward, talking by 
the way, while Minka devoured the rolls and 
fruit which the children at a word from their 
father bought for her. 

“I have money,” said Minka, taking the 
bank-note from her pocket, “I found it in the 
fiacre.” 

Herr Tiefenbach was astonished to find it to 
be a fifty-ruble note, and was quite sure it 
was the one he had given to the driver of the 
fiacre in which he had lost his pocket-book. 


38 


The Siberian Exile . 


“ You can give it to Frau Tiefenbach to keep 
for you when we get home,” said he, giving it 
back to her and seeing her put it carefully in 
her pocket, “somebody might take it from you 
if they knew you were carrying it about with 
you.” 

The child nodded assent, and when they 
reached the elegant home of the wealthy mer- 
chant, was kindly welcomed by the wife and 
mother, and instead of sleeping that night 
under the dome of the great bell of Moscow, 
was given a soft, comfortable bed, for she had 
been guided by Providence into a happy Chris- 
tian home. 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE ARREST. 


WO weeks passed away, and there was a 



1 great change in the appearance of Minka 
Milowitzsch. The good, strengthening food had 
rounded her cheeks; the sound nights’ sleep 
upon a comfortable bed had brightened her 
eyes, and the kindness with which she was 
treated by every member of the family had 
cheered her spirits. Free from fear and anxi- 
ety, and sheltered from exposure, she bade fair 
to become a healthy, well-developed girl. 

She aided Risika in the care of little Otto, 
and was a general helper about the house, 
making herself useful in every way she could, 
and learned German faster from Oscar 
and Natalie, than they learned Russian from 
her. 

Frau Tiefenbach saw that Otto was perfectly 
safe with her, for Minka had been taught pa- 
tience in the school of affliction, and, having 


39 


40 


The Siberian Exile. 


by mature a kind, amiable disposition, was a 
really excellent care-taker as well as companion 
fqr Otto. 

The time had come for Herr Tiefenbach to 
redeem his promise of a festival after the suc- 
cessful termination of the contract, and an 
evening was set for the entertainment, the 
whole day being more or less a holiday. 

“I will make it a grand treat to them, for 
they well deserve it,” said he to his wife on the 
morning of the day; “so I have provided an 
abundance of refreshments, and what is left 
they can take home with them.” 

So, long tables were spread in the grove near 
the factory, and no expense was spared to load 
them with good things. In all the festivities the 
cloth -merchant and his family took part, which 
added much to the pleasure of the working 
people, and innocent jesting and merry laughter 
made the meal one long to be remembered. Then, 
as the evening drew on, the great factory with 
its many windows was illuminated, and cast its 
cheery light even to the woods beyond ; and as 
soon as it grew dark enough, they had a brilli- 
ant spectacle of fireworks, then returned to 


The Arrest . 


41 


the factory, where they were to engage in 
Russian games to their hearts’ content. 

“ Have you seen our former manager, Klin- 
sky, sneaking about the factory this evening?” 
asked Matusckla, one of the spinning-women, 
of another. 

“No. What is he doing here? Surely he 
was not invited, or he would be with us.” 

“No, I am sure he was not invited, and 
would be too ill-natured to come, if he were.” 

“Are you sure it was Klinsky? It would be 
easy to make a mistake, now that the only 
light is from the windows.” 

“No 9 I made no mistake; he had a long 
cloak about him, and a cap drawn down to his 
eyes, but I knew him. I suspect he is envious 
of the good time we are having, and came to 
see if the master gave us all he promised.” 

“Where is he living now?” 

“ I don’t know, but he has no steady busi- 
ness, as he had here, but runs a fidcre and a 
drosky, and gets what little work he can. He 
had better have been satisfied here with the 
good, fair wages he was getting ; his greed for 
money put him out of a place.” 


42 


The Siberian Exile. 


“But I am glad he is gone. Herr Bindnagel 
treats us much better.” 

“Yes; Klinsky thought the factory couldn’t 
stand without his help, and I know it makes 
him rage to see that we are doing better with- 
out him.” 

It was after eleven o’clock, and the mirth 
was at its height, when Bindnagel came to his 
employer, and, touching him lightly upon the 
shoulder, told him he was wanted outside by 
a stranger. 

“Who is it?” inquired Herr Tiefenbach, as 
he arose to follow. 

“I don’t know, he looks like a government 
officer, and has several Cossacks on horseback 
with him.” 

“An officer! What can he want of me, and 
at this hour of night ? Where is he ? ” 

“ He is waiting back of the fulling-house,” 
replied Bindnagel ; “ have you any enemies, 
dear Herr Tiefenbach?” continued he, with 
voice trembling with emotion. 

“ I don’t know of any, unless it be the French 
secretary of Prince Bibikoff, or my former 
manager, Klinsky ; but I cannot think either of 


1 lie Arrest . 


43 


them would do me harm; what is it you 
fear?” 

“I don’t know why so many would come, 
and all armed, to see you on friendly business ; 
and there is an empty kibitka with three 
horses attached, standing near. I fear it means 
harm to you, and if you would give one call to 
your workmen, they would gather about you 
and protect you ; for while they were attacking 
the officer and his men, you could escape. 

“ Oh, no, none of these poor people shall run 
the risk of their lives for me. I am in God’s 
hand, let him do with me as seemeth best. But 
should anything happen to me, break the news 
as gently as possible to my wife, and later to 
my friends and patrons, that they may take 
steps for my release, if it be that I am a 
prisoner.” 

As both men spoke in German, the work- 
people knew nothing of the conversation, and 
thinking it something relating to the business, 
were not surprised to see them walk out 
together. 

As they reached the fulling-mill they heard 
Elinsky’s well-known voice saying to the 


44 


The Siberian Exile . 


officer, “that is he,” and at the same moment ho 
pushed his cap from his forehead, and bowing 
low, said, “Herr Tiefenbach, I wish you good- 
evening.” 

“A real Judas Iscariot,” murmured Bindna- 
gel, “I felt that he was at the helm in this 
wretched business.” 

The officer gave Bindnagel a motion to leave 
the spot, but he refused to obey, whereupon he 
was threatened with a stroke from a sword, and 
had only time to thrust a folded paper into the 
hands of his employer before dropping back 
to a corner of the fulling-mill, behind which he 
waited to hear the result. 

“Herr Tiefenbach,” said the officer, in a 
commanding tone, “ step into that kibitka ; you 
are under arrest.” 

“I have done nothing to warrant arrest, you 
must be mistaken in your man.” 

“No; there is no mistake; wasn’t it you who 
made the cloth for the Russian army? Now 
ask your conscience or your memory, and one or 
the other will tell you that there is no mistake.” 

“Yes, I had the contract for making the cloth, 
and my conscience is clear of the smallest 
defect in fulfiling the order.” 


The Arrest. 


45 


“ It is not my place to listen to your defence, 
I am sent simply to arrest. Now step quietly 
into the kibitka, that we may go as quickly as 
possible.” 

“But you have given me no proof that you 
have a right to arrest me ; who are my ac- 
cusers? I have no idea of the reason of my 
arrest, I protest against it.” 

“And I protest against waiting another 
minute ; step in now, or my Cossacks will be 
called upon to handcuff you and throw you in.” 

Seeing the necessity of complying, Herr 
Tiefenbach obeyed, the officer followed, the 
Cossacks took their places each side, the driver 
drew whip over his spirited horses and they 
sped away. The prisoner could only look back 
at the factory, brilliant with lights, and gay 
with music and merry voices, the spot where 
his loved wife and children were enjoying the 
festivities, unconscious of his arrest. 

But he was comforted by his reliance upon 
his heavenly Father; the words, “Thou wilt 
keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed 
on thee,” brought sweet balm to his troubled 
soul. All looked dark to him, but he had the 


46 


The Siberian Exile. 


consciousness that there is a God over all, and 
his rulings are right ; yet his heart turned ta 
the dear ones who would so grieve for his 
absence. Thus alternately comforting himself 
and grieving for those left behind, several 
streets were traversed, and he supposed of 
course that he was to be taken to the city 
prison; but no, they kept on past it, and at 
length had left Moscow behind them and were 
speeding along in the open country. 

“To what place are you taking me?” in- 
quired he in alarm. 

“To Siberia.” 

“ To Siberia ! ” echoed the unhappy man, 
turning deadly pale, “am I banished? ” 

“You are.” 

“And for what offence? Am I condemned 
without a trial? Am I sent to that terrible 
place, away from home and family, for no fault 
of which I am conscious ? ” 

“It appears there was no need of trial, your 
guilt was so evident that it was its own judge 
and jury.” 

“My Father in heaven is my witness that I 
have done nothing which could consign me to 


The Arrest. 


47 


the living death of a convict in Siberia ; oh ! 
good officer, let me go, and the blessings of 
a lmsband and father will be with you al- 
ways.” 

“Let you go, and be banished myself for 
disobedience of orders? No, indeed, there is 
nothing for you but submission.” 

The WTetched man put his handkerchief over 
his face and sank back in the carriage in an 
almost unconscious condition. Hundreds upon 
hundreds of miles would lie between his home 
and himself, and he felt that there was little 
chance of ever again seeing his beloved family. 
His destination might be the terrible mines of 
Trans-Baikal or Nertchinsk, where in hard 
labor he knew his life would be very short; 
though he could scarcely consider it a misfor- 
tune, if his days must be spent among criminals, 
and his home be a hut poorer far than those 
occupied by animals in his loved Fatherland. 

In the meantime Bindnagel had watched 
from his hiding-place the direction taken by 
the kibitka, and with a heavy heart returned 
to the factory to tell Frau Tiefenbach of the 
sad affair. 


48 


The Siberian Exile. 


As he reached the great room where games 
were still in progress he heard Frau Tiefen- 
bach speaking to her son : 

“Go, Oscar dear, and tell your father that 
Otto is sleepy, and we had better go home ; tell 
him please to send the carriage to the door 
for us.” 

“You can spare yourself the trouble, lady,” 
said a rude voice beside her; “he is off to Si- 
beria, and it would take more than your boy’s 
voice to bring him back.” 

“What does he say?” asked Frau Tiefen- 
bach, turning to Bindnagel. “Interpret it for 
me; I do not understand Russian.” 

“ He says, gracious lady, that you may spare 
yourself the trouble of sending for your hus- 
band ; he will not be found.” 

“Why not? What has happened to him?” 
exclaimed she, turning very pale. 

“Banished to Siberia,” repeated Klinsky, 
with a malicious smile. 

Frau Tiefenbach understood the words, and 
a thrill of horror passed over her. 

“To Siberia? Does he say that it is my 
husband who is sent there ? It cannot be 


The Arrest. 


49 


true ; lie lias clone nothing to bring such terri- 
ble punishment upon him.” 

“He went to visit the land that is flowing 
with milk and honey, and where the citron 
blooms,” said Klinsky, ironically. 

Bindnagel would not have interpreted any 
of his remarks, could he have avoided it; but 
Frau Tiefenbach anxiously implored to know 
what he said, and he told her. 

“Am I dreaming, or am I losing my senses? 
Does he mean to say he went of his own free 
will?” 

“I don’t know what he means, lady, but I 
do know he is a wicked man, and had a hand 
in sending your husband to Siberia, if it be 
there he has gone.” 

In response Klinsky’s fist came with force 
against the breast of Bindnagel, who staggered 
under the blow. The workmen ran to catch 
the cowardly assailant, but he had sprung 
through an open window and disappeared, and 
at the same moment Frau Tiefenbach sank 
senseless upon the floor. 

The spinning-women gathered about her and 
used their simple expedients to revive her, and 


50 


The Siberian Exile. 


after a little time she opened her eyes, and 
arose to her feet. 

“Tell me what you heard, Bindnagel,” said 
she, in a faint tone. “You say you did not 
hear them mention Siberia?” 

“No, nothing was said of it while they were 
here. Either Klinsky is saying this to alarm 
you, or he knows all about it, being in league 
with the ones who brought banishment upon 
Herr Tiefenbach. As soon as it is daylight I 
will go to the government building and know 
the truth.” 

With this the poor woman was forced to be 
contented ; she and the children were driven 
home, the lights were extinguished, and the 
great factory was left to the silence of night. 
The voices of those who had been merriest in 
the games were now tearful and sad as they 
died away in the distance, the one theme be- 
ing the banishment of their beloved employer, 
for there is nothing in the language which con- 
veys such sadness and terror to the heart of a 
Russian as the word Siberia. 


CHAPTER Y. 

A LATTER FROM IRKUTSK. 

B INDNAGEL accompanied the family 
home, and saw them in the care of 
Risika and the other women servants who had 
hurried there to receive them. Frau Tiefen- 
bach went immediately to her room, where she 
spent the night walking to and fro, save the 
time passed at her bedside in prayer. 

Bindnagel in the meantime went to the 
office, and taking the keys from his pocket 
searched every desk, safe, and chest; taking 
out what he had come to seek, and locking 
all securely, he gave the keys to Risika to give 
to Frau Tiefenbach, feeling quite sure they 
would be asked for by the government officers in 
a very short time, then went to the factory 
and removed all the books and valuable papers- 
to a place of safety. 

It was scarcely daylight when the govern- 
ment officers came to the house, demanded 
51 


52 


The Siberian Exile . 


the keys, and made a thorough search of 
dwelling and office, then sealed all the rooms 
except the living-room, kitchen, and two sleep- 
ing apartments. Every scrap of paper upon 
which there was writing, every letter and book, 
were captured and taken away ; and then they 
went to the factory, going through it in the 
same way, and sealing it, thus throwing hun- 
dreds of people out of employment. 

The affair created a great excitement in 
Moscow, and many reports, some of them un- 
favorable to Herr Tiefenbach, were spread 
abroad ; but the cause of his banishment was 
a mystery to all. In his sudden descent from 
prosperity to adversity, from wealth to poverty, 
for his property was confiscated to the govern- 
ment, and from prominence among his fellow- 
men, consigned to obscurity in the wilds of 
frozen Siberia, he had the blessing of a clear 
conscience. 

Frau Tiefenbach had opportunity to see the 
change which this calamity made in her 
friends, for many whom she had considered 
her truest and most faithful, avoided her dwell- 
ing as if it were plague -smitten ; regard for 


A Letter From Irkutsk. 53 

their own safety preventing them from show- 
ing their sympathy and friendship for the 
family of a Siberian exile. Government spies 
would be on the watch, and report made of 
visits there, so but three families, and they 
without any political influence, were the only 
callers. These friends were Monsieur Merce- 
lin, teacher of French to Oscar and Natalie, a 
German cabinet-maker and his wife, named 
Hartung, and a Russian couple named Pan- 
utin, who had charge of an orphan asylum in a 
suburb of Moscow. 

All these humble people did what they could 
to comfort, but could offer no help. 

“ If I only knew what my poor husband was 
accused of, I might have an idea of the plan 
to take for his release,” said Frau Tiefenbach, 
weeping, “but I have no hint of what fault 
they find in him.” 

“Has your husband an enemy who has ever 
heard him speak against the government?” 
questioned Panutin. 

“ He has never said a word against the gov- 
ernment to any one, of that I am sure,” she 
replied; “he always spoke respectfully of the 


54 The Siberian Exile . 

Ozar, paid his taxes promptly, and tried to be a 
good citizen.” 

“ But do yon know of any enemy be bas ? ” 
persisted Panntin. 

“No, unless it be tbe French secretary of 
tbe Prince Bibikoff, wbo made an unjust de- 
mand for part of tbe money received by my 
husband in payment for cloth for tbe Russian 
army ; but I cannot think be would have tbe 
power to do so much barm.” 

“Ah, tbe cloth for tbe army!” commented 
Panutin, “that is tbe book which bas caught 
Herr Tiefenbach.” 

“Now that you have mentioned it to 
Madame,” said Monsieur Mercelin, “perhaps 
it will be no barm in me to tell her that one 
day when I was giving a French lesson to a 
little daughter of General Dimitoff, I overheard 
him and some other government officers talk- 
ing in an adjoining room. They said your 
husband, dear lady, had cheated the govern- 
ment in the cloth for the army, that in every 
roll there were innumerable holes, some no 
larger than a pea, others four times that large, 
nnd some rolls lacked several yards of the 
number they should have run.” 


A Letter from Irkutsk . 55 

“He never did such a thing in the world,” 
cried Frau Tiefenbach, turning very pale ; “ he 
took great pride in the appearance of the cloth, 
and was glad it was finished and delivered ac- 
cording to contract.” 

“ The general said that the Czar was so 
angry that he said, ‘Off to Siberia with the 
rascal, don’t delay one moment,’ continued 
Mercelin, “but I did not believe that the order 
would be carried out, for it seemed from what 
I could hear that some one said a good word 
for Herr Tiefenbach; for another had replied 
that ‘ an employer must be responsible for 
his people, and should have seen that the 
cloth was what he had represented it ; he had 
received good money for it, and had given 
faulty cloth’; yet it seemed to me that Herr 
Tiefenbach had friends among them, and I 
hoped they had influenced the Czar. Had I 
not thought so, I would have given your hus- 
band warning.” 

“It would have been of no use,” she re- 
plied, “he would not have tried to escape 
arrest; he was, I am sure, secure in his inno- 
cence of wish to defraud any one, and would 


56 The Siberian Exile. 

have asked for a trial had they given him 
time.” 

In the meantime Bindnagel had visited 
the most influential patrons of his employer 
to ask their advice and assistance as to what 
steps to take to obtain a pardon, but no one 
was willing to give the least help to the ban- 
ished man or his family; they were not even 
willing to talk upon the subject, and Bindnagel 
despaired of seeing him return to his home. 

Frau Tiefenbach visited her influential 
friends with like result; and she would have 
journeyed to St. Petersburg to try to have 
audience with the Czar, but Panutin advised 
against it, knowing it would not be of avail, 
as did other Russian friends, so she gave up 
all thought of it. 

The heavy fine imposed upon Herr Tiefen- 
bach, in addition to the large sum demanded 
in payment for the injured cloth, left the 
family poorly supplied. Frau Tiefenbach 
could command but the six hundred rubles 
secured by Bindnagel before the search made 
by the government officers, and a moderate 
sum belonging to her which was in a German 


A Letter from Irkutsk. 


57 


bank. As their large convenient house was 
now the property of the government, she^was 
forced to rent a small wooden cottage in the 
suburbs of Moscow. The gardener, coachman, 
cook and waiting-maid, were dismissed from 
her service, and left with sad hearts, for they 
had a good home and were sorry to leave it ; 
Risika was also advised to go where she could 
receive her usual wages, but refused to leave 
Frau Tiefenbach and the children. 

“No, gracious lady,” said she, “I don’t need 
wages, much that I have earned in the long 
years that I have been with you, I have yet ; 
I have shared the good times with you, and 
must share the poor ones. Little Minka cannot 
serve you as you should be served ; let me stay, 
for I would not be contented in any other 
place.” 

Frau Tiefenbach was too glad to have her 
company and faithful service to refuse, so 
Risika stayed and was the reliance of the little 
family in their changed estate. 

Oh, how gladly would Frau Tiefenbach have 
endured poverty had the husband and father 
been with them ; but day and night she thought 


58 


The Siberian Exile. 


of him journeying ever eastward, through rain 
and ice and snow, in the thin clothing which he 
had worn the night of the festival ; her want of 
knowledge of his real condition magnifying his 
privations. 

Her anxiety robbed her of sleep and appe- 
tite, she grew nervous, thin and weak ; and her 
friends feared she would come to a sick bed, 
unless she heard some good word from her 
husband. In vain she tried to interest herself 
in her home ; her main thought was to secure a 
pardon for her innocent husband. 

One morning, about four months after his 
banishment, she was sitting by the window of 
her little parlor, when she saw a poorly-dressed 
man looking at the house, and in a few mo- 
ments he rapped, and she went herself to see 
what he wished. 

“I am a government courier,” said he, in a 
low tone, “and have come from' Irkutsk in 
Siberia.” 

“From Siberia!” echoed Frau Tiefenbach, 
clasping her hands in excitement, “ and you 
bring me word of my husband ; does he live ; is 
he well ? ” 


A Letter From Irkutsk. 59 

“ He lives, but is far from well ; lie gave me 
a letter for you.” 

“ A letter 1 oh, please give it to me.” 

You cannot have it until you pay me twenty 
rubles. It is no light thing to run the danger 
of carrying a letter on horseback ten thousand 
versts, and I a government courier.” 

“ You shall have the money,” said she, and 
going to her desk she took out a twenty- 
ruble note, and gave it to him. 

The man eyed it carefully, and seeing it was 
all right, took the letter from the inner lining of 
his coat, and gave it to her. 

“Thank you, oh, a thousand times;” cried 
Frau Tiefenbach, as she recognized the well 
known hand- writing. 

“Tell no one about the letter,” said he, “or 
your husband and myself would be severely 
punished.” 

She promised, and the man left the house, 
and she sat down to read the lines; upon a 
soiled and crumpled piece of paper, unsealed, 
and evidently composed under the fear of 
other eyes seeing them, therefore carefully 
worded : 


GO 


The Siberian Exile . 


“My Beloved Wife: Last evening I heard 
that the bearer of these lines was to leave 
Irkutsk for Moscow and St. Petersburg, and 
in response to my earnest prayer he has con- 
sented to run the risk of punishment for carry- 
ing a letter from an exile, I in turn promising 
that you would give him twenty rubles as 
compensation for his goodness. It will cost 
you trouble to read it, for it is written with a 
pen which I made with a bread knife from a 
raven quill , and the ink is made from soot. 

“The first eight days of my journey were 
made wretched by the oppression of the officer 
who arrested me, and in time I found that it 
was due to the belief that I had cheated the 
government and the poor soldiers by putting 
holes in the cloth. I had come away in my 
thin clothing and with no hat, having left it in 
the factory ; and he would not allow me to pro- 
tect myself from the cold even with bundles of 
hay which I could have put about me. At the 
end of that time he returned to Moscow, and 
when we reached Nowgorod I bought a cloak, 
a fur cap, and gloves, and for that great good 
must thank Bindnagel, who at the last moment 


A Letter From Irkutsk . 61 

of seeing him the night of my arrest thrust 
into my hand the one hundred and fifty rubles 
which I had that evening given him as a 
present for his faithfulness as manager during 
that busy time. May God reward him, for I 
should have suffered from cold had it not been 
for his gift. I mention it, that you may return 
that sum and more to him, as I hope the gov- 
ernment is satisfied with banishing me, and my 
property is all safe in your hands. Like your- 
self and all other residents of Russia, I had a 
terrible dread of Siberia, believing it at all 
times of the year to be a waste of snow and ice, 
and was astonished to find green fields upon 
which cattle were grazing peacefully. Not 
being a political exile, I will not have to work 
in the mines nor hunt for sable, and am 
living in a village of huts, with other exiles. 
The place is named Tscherbola, and there are 
eight huts beside my own. The governor of 
Irkutsk, to whom I was taken immediately 
upon reaching there, sent me here, and as I 
have as yet no occupation, would suffer for the 
means of subsistence were it not for the money 
given me by Bindnagel. 


62 


The Siberian Exile. 


“Many of the exiles follow their trade in 
Irkutsk and earn a good living, and their 
wives and children came to share their exile. 
It is only the criminal convict who is chained, 
and works in the mines. 

“ My greatest trial is the separation from my 
loved ones, and I have never appreciated 
books and writing materials as I do now since 
I am deprived of them. When I get a little 
stronger I will hunt and fish for my support, 
and also to pass away the time. Oh ! if I could 
only get a letter from you, I would weep happy 
tears over it, and press it to my heart. 

“My paper is nearly filled; kiss the dear 
children for me. Yours with love, 

“ George.” 

Tears rained from the eyes of Frau Tie- 
fenbach after reading this letter, and she 
pressed it to her heart, then read it again and 
again. 

“If other wives and children can share the 
banishment of the husbands and fathers, so 
can we,” said she half aloud, “we will go to 
Siberia.” 


A Letter from Irkutsk. 63 

“ And will I go, mother ; will you take me ? ” 
cried Natalie. 

“ Yes, you and Oscar could stand the jour- 
ney as well as I, and long to be with your 
father.” 

At that moment Bindnagel came in, and 
Frau Tiefenbach told him of her intention of 
going to Siberia. 

“You could never endure such a journey, 
gracious lady,” said he, earnestly, “ remember 
it is several months since your husband went, 
then it was summer, and now winter is at the 
door. It would be a terrible journey for an 
unprotected woman.” 

“ God will be my protector ; in him I trust.” 

“You will need money for your journey 
and for the support of the family after reach- 
ing there.” 

“Yes, but with what you saved, and the 
sale of the household goods I can spare, and 
the money in bank, I am sure we can live as 
well there as here.” 

Seeing that she was determined to go, Bind- 
nagel promised to get their conveyance, and do 
all else in his power to assist them, as did also 


64 


The Siberian Exile. 


the three families of faithful friends who had 
stood by them in their trial. 

These true friends earnestly advised Frau 
Tiefenbach not to take little Otto, believing the 
journey would be too long and severe for one 
so young, and offered to have care over him 
until such time as he could go to them, or they 
return to him. This kindness was deeply 
appreciated by the loving mother, who had 
dreaded the journey for him, yet grieved to 
part from him ; so it was decided that Bind- 
nagel, Bisika, and Minka should remain in 
the cottage to take care of Otto, and all knew 
that the boy would receive the tenderest 


care. 


CHAPTER YI. 

THE JOURNEY TO SIBERIA. 

B INDNAGEL succeeded in engaging a new 
and comfortable kibitka for the journey, 
and helped the little family to prepare the pro- 
visions and other articles likely to be needed, 
for there were long stretches of country where 
no refreshments could be obtained, and they 
must have them on hand. So, small pans, a 
spirit-lamp, meats, butter, flour, bread, and 
other things were packed in as small a space 
as possible, the stock to be renewed when they 
reached towns or villages where such things 
could be procured. 

The kibitka, like all those Tartar vehicles, 
consisted of a frame-work of wood, rounded at 
the top, and covered with felt, really a movable 
habitation. The owner of the kibitka, Ivan 
Janowitsch, was to act as driver, a young man 
heartily recommended by the Panutins, who 
had known him from his boyhood, he hav- 
ing been in the orphanage, and afterwards 
5 65 


GG The Siberian Exile. 

had served them as care-taker of the horses 
and grounds. They knew him to be trust- 
worthy in every way, and, as he could speak 
German, he was in all respects a suitable per- 
son for the occasion. 

With many tears the affectionate mother 
bade good-bye to her boy, and, treasuring the 
promises and good wishes of her faithful 
friends, set out for Siberia in the last week of 
August, in the year 1810. 

It was the first long j ourney she h ad ever taken, 
and, although the misfortune which occasioned 
it was ever present in her mind, she enjoyed it 
far more than she had thought possible. After 
traveling all day, her sleep at night was sound 
and refreshing, and the plainest food was re- 
lished. They had privations and hardships, 
but courage, cheerfulness, and good humor 
were brought to bear upon them, and, above 
and beyond all, the thought that they were on 
their way to the husband and father made up 
for all that was unpleasant in their journey. 

Where they stopped to rest the horses, they 
could generally procure a meal, and after par- 
taking of it the little family would take a walk, 


The Journey to Siberia. G7 

which refreshed them. They were always cor- 
dially received by their humble entertainers, 
who appreciated the sum paid for the simple 
food, the best they could offer. 

One day the tire became loose upon one of 
the wheels of the kibitka, and they halted at a 
village smithy to have it repaired. As usual, 
the little family took a walk, and seeing a bucket 
of water and a cup by a well near one of the 
cottages, stopped to drink. Natalie had just 
put the cup to her lips when a woman ap- 
peared, who sprang toward her, grasped the 
cup, and dashed it into the street. The fright- 
ened girl had not time to speak before the 
woman ran to a corner of her one poor room 
for a broom, with which she would have struck 
them had they not taken to flight ; and before 
they reached the shelter of the carriage several 
women were after them with brooms, their 
shrill voices raised in angry abuse of them for 
daring to come near. 

Almost breathless, the mother and children 
sank into the kibitka, and when Ivan came out 
of the smithy they told him of their fright. 

“If I had known you thought of getting out 


68 


The Siberian Exile. 


of the kibitka, I would have warned you,” said 
he, “for we are among the Rascolniks, or dis- 
senters from the Greek Church of Russia, who 
will not have anything to do with people of 
any other belief. Their hate goes so far that 
they will not give them a drink of water nor a 
piece of bread, nor allow them to get warm by 
their fire.” 

“ Oh!” exclaimed Frau Tiefenbach, “is it pos- 
sible that in Europe we find a sect w r ho knows 
nothing of the greatest command of all, ‘love 
God with all thy heart, and thy neighbor as 
thyself * ? ” 

The kibitka was repaired, and they traveled 
on through a very poor country, the people 
living in the humblest manner, a wooden table 
and bench forming the main part of the furni- 
ture of their huts. 

At last they reached Perm, the last large 
city in European Russia, on the right bank of 
the Kama River, which is the dividing line for 
all Siberia’s exiles. He who tries to cross it, 
and stand upon European ground, is a fugitive, 
and the country people have a right to capture 
him and send him back to captivity. 


The Journey to Siberia. 69 

Fran Tiefenbach and her children had 
crossed the river and were now in Siberia, but 
yet hundreds of miles from their exiled hus- 
band and father, but they traveled hopefully 
on, knowing that every revolution of the wheels 
brought them nearer to him. 

After a time they reached the mines of Jeka- 
terinburg, where they saw convicts standing 
with bare feet in the cold water, washing the 
sand from gold, many of them chained, and 
guarded by an armed Cossack on horseback 
painfully recalling to the minds of the travelers 
that they were in Siberia, the land of the exile. 

As' the kabitka passed these unfortunate 
ones, their heads turned toward it like dowers 
to the sun, and they stretched out their hands 
for a gift. Frau Tiefenbach did not heed that 
they might be murderers, thieves, and other 
criminals , her great thankfulness was that her 
husband was not among them, and she gave 
freely, only sorry that she could not give 
more. 

“ You will have to be richer than the Czar to 
give to all who need it, lady,” said Ivan, “ and 
if you take my advice you will not let them see 


70 


The Siberian Exile . 


you have money, some of tlie convicts escape 
now and then, and frequently rob travelers.” 

Frau Tiefenbach saw the wisdom of this 
counsel, and resolved to be more cautious, and 
was not sorry when they left the mines and 
miserable convicts in the distance. In an 
hour or more they reached a cottage where 
Ivan informed them they could have dinner, 
they went in and were received hospitably by 
the poor people, who set before them brown 
bread, new milk, and a large bowl of hot 
cabbage soup ; and while they partook of the 
simple fare, a young man gave them music 
upon a baalalaika, a kind of guitar with but 
two strings. 

Frau Tiefenbach was an accomplish musi- 
cian and saw the defects of the performance, 
but she appreciated the good will and kindness 
of her entertainers, and thanked them heartily, 
leaving them happier for the visit. 

Day after day they traveled on, meeting inci- 
dents and little adventures, which lingered ever 
after in their memory. 

Once, on a dark rainy evening, they drove 
into a swamp, and it took several men to get 


71 


The Journey to Siberia. 

the carriage and horses upon firm ground ; and 
at another time, drove into a stream, which 
appeared shallow, but further on was deep 
enough to drown them ; but a kind Providence 
watched over them, they turned and went 
down the bank until they came to a safe place 
to cross. 

Six weeks they had been on the way, and 
were nearing the city of Tobolsk, when they 
halted one evening at a post-station to rest and 
feed the horses ; and while the family waited in 
the miserable little room, Frau Tiefenbach 
noticed a rough, ill-looking man gazing intently 
at the kibitka, who disappeared when he saw 
Ivan coming with the horses. 

She felt suspicious of the stranger, fearing 
he might be an escaped convict, and her 
anxiety was such that she would have preferred 
remaining over night, had there been any ac- 
commodation for travelers, instead of trying to 
reach Tobolsk. But she kept her fears to 
herself, and all entered the kibitka, refreshed 
by even that short change of position, and just 
as they had reached the top of a hill, where 
Ivan again allowed the horses to rest, Frau 


72 


The Siberian Exile . 


Tiefenbach was startled at hearing a voice close 
beside her, and turning, saw it was a tall 
stranger with a long gray beard. 

“ Lady,” said he, in Eussian, “ have pity 
upon a weary traveler, and let me sit beside your 
driver for a few miles at least of the way.” 

Frau Tiefenbach did not understand a word 
of his address, but knew by his gestures what 
he wished, and hesitated to grant it. 

“I am a Jewish merchant of Kiew,” con- 
tinued the stranger, “and am on my way to 
Tobolsk, but fell ill, and could get no further 
than the post-station ; I would have hired a 
conveyance, but the man at the station charged 
such an enormous price that I could not pay it, 
so have tried to walk, but am faint from ex- 
haustion. I will pay your driver what I can, 
and for the sake of a merciful God, who is my 
Father as he is yours, grant my prayer.” 

“ Oh! mother,” whispered Oscar, “he is worn 
out from walking, and wants to ride ; do let him 
come in ; he is too weak to do us any harm.” 

Frau Tiefenbach still hesitated, the man was 
evidently too ill to walk, yet she must think of 
their own safety. He might be an escaped 


78 


The Journey to Siberia. 

convict, and have confederates who would 
attack them, perhaps kill them, and take pos- 
session of the kibitka. She prayed for wisdom 
to know how to decide, and her prayer was 
granted in an unexpected way. 

“ He is ill and weak,” said she to her children, 
“ I know my conscience will condemn me if I 
refuse, yet I scarcely know whether it be safe 
to take in a stranger.” 

“What! are you Germans?” cried the man, 
“ oh, thank God ! thank God! Now I know you 
will help me on my way. I am a German, was 
born and lived most of my life in Berlin, and 
love everything connected with my Father- 
land.” 

“You are welcome to get on the box with 
Ivan,” said Frau Tiefenbach. “ You must 
excuse me for not being willing at first, for 
we have need to be on our guard. I saw a 
man at the post-station spying our carriage, 
and it alarmed me, for there are escaped con- 
victs in every direction, I am told.” 

“Yes, I saw that man; he ran past me as I 
came up the hill ; I am grateful that he did not 
molest me, for I am too weak to defend myself.’* 


74 


The Siberian Exile. 


The moon had arisen by this time and 
shone full and fair upon their road, casting 
the shadows of the tall pines across it here 
and there. The traveler proved to be enter- 
taining company, was educated, and one 
evidently used to good society. He was ac- 
quainted with many of Herr Tiefenbach’s 
business friends in Berlin, and the conversa- 
tion did not grow wearisome to the children, 
who were delighted with this pleasant change 
in the monotony of travel. 

They had driven a considerable distance, 
when Frau Tiefenbach heard the footsteps of 
some one behind the kibitka, and looking out, 
saw it was the rough-looking man she had seen 
at the post-station. She was filled with alarm, 
and was about to speak, when the man darted 
from behind the carriage and was about to 
attack the driver ; but when, instead of one per- 
son on the box, he saw two — one of them a 
tall, and he supposed, strong man — he gave 
an exclamation of surprise, ran into the pine 
grove near at hand, and was seen no more. 

“God has already rewarded me for being 
merciful to this weary stranger,” thought Frau 


The Journey to Siberia. 75 

Tiefenbacli ; “oli! I thank him for putting it 
into my heart to do the right ! ” 

It was almost midnight when the weary 
travelers reached Tobolsk, and drove to an 
inn to remain the balance of the night. The 
stranger had reached his destination, and 
thanked them for their great kindness to him, 
leaving a piece of silver in the hand of Ivan as 
a token of remembrance. 

“My name is Joseph Abraham,” said he, 
“ and if any of you should ever need my ser- 
vices you will not find me ungrateful for this 
Christian treatment of a Jewish stranger.” 


CHAPTER YII. 

TEE GOVERNMENT REST. 

M ANY hundred miles had Frau Tiefenbach 
and her children journeyed, and they 
must go many hundreds more before reaching 
Irkutsk, the goal of their expedition. 

To their great disappointment, they were 
compelled to remain in Tobolsk nearly a week, 
as the kibitka required repairs ; but the mother 
was one who had firm belief that God ruled 
even in the most minute affairs of life, and 
trained her children in the same comforting 
faith. So all strove to accept the delay cheer- 
fully, believing it a blessing in disguise, and 
Frau Tiefenbach resolved to make the sojourn 
of benefit to others if not to herself. Therefore, 
many a poor family, whom they met in their 
walks through the city, and the country beyond, 
blessed the necessity which had detained the 
kind, helpful woman, who had done what she 
could to brighten their lot. 

76 


The Government Rest. 


77 


The main industry of Tobolsk, lying as it 
•does at the junction of the Irtysh and Tobol 
rivers, was fishing, and in winter was carried on 
with nets through holes in the ice. Great 
quantities were thus caught, dried or frozen in 
the air, preserving them for future use. 

Tobolsk was a city of twenty thousand in 
habitants, who, to outward appearances, seemed 
as contented as the rest of the world, but in 
their walks Frau Tiefenbacli entered several 
lace and embroidery manufactories, conducted 
by the wives and daughters of political exiles, 
and when she made the acquaintance of these 
ladies, deeply sympathized with their longing 
to return to their native land and their old 
homes. They were bearing their burdens as 
best they could, but nothing could make them 
forget that they were exiles in Siberia ; and 
though many years have passed since Frau 
Tiefenbach made the journey, the exile system 
is yet in full force ; still the political exile and 
his wife and daughters sigh for their homes; 
still the wretched convict in the mines sighs for 
freedom, and escapes from captivity when he 


can. 


78 


The Siberian Exile . 


Frau Tiefenbach had left home with comfort- 
able cloaks for herself and her children, but as 
winter advanced, found that nothing but fur 
would keep them warm in that climate ; so 
before leaving Tobolsk, purchased suits for 
each, and the kibitka being in order, they con- 
tinued upon their journey. 

They passed several Tartar villages, and 
about noon halted at a cottage for refreshments, 
and were hospitably received by the Moham- 
medans, Ivan acting as interpreter. Their poor 
home consisted of but one room, and cushions 
were used for seats. The food was very plain, 
but Frau Tiefenbach was gratified at seeing the 
joy and gratitude with which the compensation 
was received, but was somewhat shocked at the 
plan adopted to get more, which was to dis- 
pose of one of their children. 

As they were about to step into their kibitka, 
the Kalmuc took his six month’s old baby from 
its mother’s arms and begged Frau Tiefenbach 
to take it. 

“ See, now, you can have him for ten rubles, 
take him.” 

“Certainly you are only jesting, you would 
not sell your child,” said she, earnestly. 


The Government Rest . 


79 


“But I am telling the truth,” replied he; 
“take the boy and give me ten rubles,” and he 
put the child in the kibitka and held out his 
hand for the money. 

“Oh! no, I cannot take him; surely the 
mother is not willing to sell her child?” said 
the lady, turning to her. 

“Yes, he is only a hindrance, and you are 
rich and can take better care of him than I 
will ; yes, you may have him.” 

“O mother, do take him,” said Natalie, 
“he is so cute with his little black eyes and 
flat nose.” 

“Oh! no, dear; it would be a terrible thing 
for these poor people to sell their child, and 
worse in me to buy it,” and she placed it in its 
mother’s arms, and they all stepped in and 
drove quickly away. 

“I did not know there were such people in 
the world,” said the mother. “Even animals 
will fight to protect their young, and these 
people are so dead to parental affection as to 
wish to sell their little one for ten rubles. 
What would you think if I should offer to sell 
you?” 


80 


The Siberian Exile. 


“But yon wouldn’t, mother, not if a ton of 
gold were offered you,” said Natalie, throwing 
her arms about the dear form. 

Not far from Tobolsk they saw reindeer, and 
the children were charmed with the fleetness 
and beauty of the noble animal. All the 
people they met had clothing of reindeer skin, 
and about their necks were tippets made from 
the skin of the fox or squirrel. 

It had grown bitterly cold and cloudy, ‘and 
before reaching the next large village a snow- 
storm set in, but fortunately they gained the 
inn and were sheltered in a comfortable place 
for the night. 

The next morning they found the snow so 
firm, that it was decided to place the body of 
the kibitka upon sledge runners, that they 
might proceed immediately upon their jour- 
ney. 

They had grown so accustomed to the cold, 
and were so well protected, that they suffered 
no more from it than when in Moscow, and the 
smoother way of traveling was a very pleasant 
change. 

Before leaving the village, Frau Tiefenbach 


The Government Rest. 


81 


was advised to employ an armed Cossack to 
attend tliem upon liorseback, as they were 
about to pass through a wild waste of country, 
and ran the risk of meeting wolves and runa- 
way convicts. They were glad they had pro- 
fited by the advice, for they felt much more 
secure, and as he could speak German they 
were glad to hear him tell them of the country 
through which they were passing, and in many 
ways he was helpful to Ivan in the care of the 
horses and kibitka when they halted for the 
night. All went well until one evening they 
stopped in a village to take an early supper, 
and the host gave the Cossack rum, to which 
he helped himself so freely that before they 
had gone far on the way he was too much 
under the influence of it to know what he did. 
He struck the horses with the knout, and, 
when Ivan remonstrated, threatened to strike 
Jiim. 

At length he grew so intoxicated that they 
feared every moment that he would fall from 
his horse, and Frau Tiefenbach begged him to 
dismount and to sit in the sledge, but he would 
not obey, but fell asleep, his body swaying to 
6 


82 


The Siberian Exile. 


and fro with the motion of the horse, and then 
dropped to the ground. 

Fortunately, his horse at the time happened 
to be so far from the sledge that he escaped 
being struck by the horses’ hoofs, or hurt by 
the runners, as he lay .powerless to protect 
himself. 

Ivan wished to leave him in the snow to 
grow sober at his leisure, but Frau Tiefenbach, 
reproaching him for his heartlessness, com- 
manded him to descend and to rub the face of 
the prostrate man with snow, hoping to revive 
him sufficiently to enable him to help himself 
into the sledge. Ivan obeyed, and gave a more 
vigorous rubbing than was necessary, but 
without avail; the Cossack was too helpless to 
move an arm; so all alighted, and, by dint of 
lifting, dragging, and pushing, succeeded in 
placing him upon the floor of the sledge. 

This, of course, was far from pleasant to the 
lady and her children ; but F*-au Tiefenbach 
was a Christian, and pitied, while she blamed, 
the wretched man who had given way to temp- 
tation ; and she did not fail to make it an ob- 
ject-lesson for Oscar, who promised her to avoid 


The Government Rest. 


83 


the tempter, for it brought in its train all the 
evils to which man can be subject. 

The* Cossack’s horse in the meantime trotted 
along beside the others, as though knowing the 
state of affairs, and resolved to do his duty by 
being on hand when wanted. 

The twilight was coming on, and Frau Tie- 
fenbach had noticed Ivan looking from side to 
side, and occasionally muttering something 
which she could not understand, it being in 
Russian. At length he stopped the horses, and 
turning to her, told the cause of his dissatis- 
faction. 

“The trouble with that miserable fellow has 
caused me to miss the road,” said he ; “ I am 
not in the right track, and it is growing so 
dark that I cannot see what course to take to 
get right.” 

Not a dwelling was to be seen in any direc- 
tion, nor had they passed one in a long time, 
and Frau Tiefenbach’s heart sank at the pros- 
pect of passing the night in a trackless waste 
in the wilds of Siberia, and stories she had 
heard and read of the attacks of wolves passed 
through her mind. The children were fright- 


The Siberian Exile . 


ened, and Natalie began to cry, while Oscar 
turned somewhat pale, for he, too, thought of 
wolves and other wild animals which might 
make them their prey. 

A prayer for guidance arose from the trou- 
bled heart of Frau Tiefenbach, and the thought 
came to her that God was there as surely as 
by their own fireside , in the desolate waste of 
trackless snow she felt his presence, and was 
comforted. 

“Oh! Ivan,” said she, cheerfully, “it won’t 
do to stand here, drive along slowly and keep 
a bright lookout for a cottage, surely we will 
come to one soon.” 

Her words did them all good, the children 
believed the affair not so hopeless as they had 
supposed, and Ivan spoke cheerily to the 
horses, and, dumb creatures though they 
were, they were encouraged by his tone, and 
trotted placidly on. They had gone, perhaps, 
an eighth of a mile when the Cossack’s horse 
gave a joyous neigh, and, leaving the others, 
trotted off in a slightly different direction. 
The horses seemed inclined to follow, and 
Ivan gave them their way, and to the delight 


The Government Rest. 


85 


of all they halted before a long, low building, 
dark, and uninhabited, but giving promise of 
more secure shelter than the felt covering of 
the' kibitka. 

“It is a place of rest provided by the gov- 
ernment for travelers in this thinly settled 
country,” said Ivan, jubilantly; “the Cossack 
told me of it, but I did not know what way 
to go to find it.” 

“Thank our Father in heaven that we have 
found it,” said Frau Tiefenbach, reverently ; “ oh, 
he is good, and his mercy endureth for ever! ” 

Filled with joy and gratitude, they de- 
scended, and waited until Ivan secured the 
basket containing the spirit lamp, and means 
to light it, then he opened the door and en- 
tered. They found it to be a long room with 
no windows, but a large chimney, and near it 
was piled a quantity of waste wood and pine 
cones, left, no doubt, by the last occupant. At 
one end were six sleeping berths made of 
rough boards, a welcome sight to the weary 
ones. 

It did not take long for the once rich mer- 
chant’s wife to change into a serving woman ; 


86 


The Siberian Exile. 


in a short time a bright fire was dancing up 
the chimney, before which the children knelt 
in glee, lighting as it did every corner of the 
weather-stained place, and giving it an air of 
comfort. Ivan brought in the provisions, then 
unharnessed the horses and led them into a 
shed adjoining the cottage, fed them and made 
them comfortable for the night, then went to 
see the Cossack. He found him sufficiently 
sobered to help himself from the kibitka, and 
with the aid of Ivan reached the shed, where 
he sank down upon the straw in one corner 
and was soon in a deep sleep ; Ivan, at the 
suggestion of Frau Tiefenbach, covering him 
with the cloaks and blankets used as foot- 
robes. 

Happy as birds, the children sat by the fire 
and watched their mother prepare supper, 
Ivan broiling the slices of ham over the glow- 
ing coals, while Frau Tiefenbach made tea of 
melted snow w'ater, and set other things upon 
the boards used for a table; and all relished 
the supper as only those can who have felt 
hunger, anxiety, and weariness, and found 
safety, contentment, and rest. 


The Government Rest. 


87 


There, in the wilds of Siberia, as in their 
peaceful parlor at home, the family altar was 
not wanting; they knelt about the glowing 
hearth, and Frau Tiefenbach prayed that they 
might be kept through the night in peace and 
safety. Then Ivan went to the stall, and, 
wrapping a reindeer robe about him, slept 
until the rays of the rising sun awoke him. 

Frau Tiefenbach kept the light burning all 
night, and occasionally replenished the fire, 
but her night’s rest was all that could have 
been desired. She heard the east wind moan - 
ing through the pines, and the howl of the 
hungry wolf in the distance, but within all 
was peace. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

A HAPPY MEETING. 

T HE Cossack was muck surprised when he 
awoke the next morning and found him- 
self in a shed with the horses, instead of on 
horseback in the snow, and for a moment could 
not understand it, and when Ivan made it plain 
to him in very decided words, he was heartily 
ashamed of his conduct. 

“You were very good to take care of me,” 
said he, humbly, “ and I thank you for it.” 

“You need not waste your thanks upon me,” 
replied Ivan, brusquely, “if the lady had not 
taken pity on you, you would have been frozen 
to death, or devoured by wolves long before this, 
and it would have served you right. You were 
hired to protect us, and we had to take care of 
you. It was through your drunkenness that 
we got off the track, and if it had not been for 
your horse we would have been plunging about 
in the snow yet.” 


88 


A Happy Meeting. 89 

Tomonskoi’s surprise was increased when at 
a word from Frau Tiefenbach he went into the 
cottage and saw upon the improvised table a 
good breakfast of coffee, meat, bread, butter 
and preserved plums, and was invited to sit by 
the fire until she and the children had fin- 
ished. 

The “Rest” was by no means strange to 
him, he having frequently stopped there with 
the familes of exiles, for whom he was acting 
as guide, and his clever little horse knew it as 
well as he. 

After enjoying their good, morning meal, 
they covered the fire carefully, and after put- 
ting the dishes in order, and packing them and 
the provisions in their baskets, they took their 
places in the kibitka, the Cossack mounted 
into the saddle, and they were away; and 
Frau Tiefenbach, looking back to the cottage, 
breathed a prayer that the next weary travel- 
ers might find the rest and comfort they had 
found under its sheltering roof. 

Without further mishap they reached Ir- 
kutsk, and as they passed through one of the 
long streets of the city they saw a large house 


90 The Siberian Exile . 

brilliantly illuminated, and beard tbe strains of 
sweet music. 

Yes, in far away Asia, in this Siberia of 
bitter cold, and snow, and ice, associated in 
tbe minds of all Russians with tbe sigbs and 
groans of tbe banished, even bere was mirtb 
and revelry. But instead of cheering Frau 
Tiefenbacb, it depressed her spirits, for she as 
yet knew nothing of her husband ; whether be 
be living or dead was as a sealed book to her. 

Not far from this handsome residence was a 
long wooden building, before which armed Cos- 
sacks kept guard. It was the prison where 
banished convicts were confined while awaiting 
transportation to the mines of Trans-Baikal or 
Nertchinsk. In the one building was a richly 
dressed company, enjoying the music, the 
feasting, the flowers, and other luxuries of 
wealth; in the other, the cold, the darkness, 
dry bread, cold water, chains and the knout. 

Frau Tiefenbacb had given orders to be 
driven to the nearest public house, and as soon 
as the children were placed comfortably in bed 
she was driven to the residence of the gov- 
ernor, to present her passes, and ask the place 


91 


A Happy Meeting. 

of sojourn of her husband, and obtain permis- 
sion to see him. To her great disappointment, 
the governor was not in ; he was at the enter- 
tainment in the handsome dwelling she had 
passed, and could not receive her until the 
next day at noon. 

She longed to know if her husband was yet 
at the village from whence he had sent the 
letter to her, and if he were well, but could 
gain no information, so returned sadly to her 
room in the inn ; but in spite of her weariness, 
she could not close her eyes in sleep, but 
walked the floor, or sat by the window gazing 
out into the quiet street and at the silent stars. 

Her loved husband might be ill, perhaps dy- 
ing, in the very town where she and his chil- 
dren were awaiting permission to visit him; 
and at the thought her heart thrilled with 
keener anxiety than it had done at any time 
during the whole journey. All the evil fore- 
bodings which had haunted her before leaving 
Moscow came upon her in full force, the main one 
being the fear that he had, after all, been consid- 
ered a political criminal, and sent to the mines. 

To her great relief, morning came, then 


92 


The Siberian Exile . 


noon, and they were again driven to the gov- 
ernor’s residence, and were rejoiced to hear 
that Herr Tiefenbach was at Tscherbola, but 
further than that could hear nothing, and, 
thanking the governor for this information, she 
was again in the kibitka, and with the children 
was driven rapidly to the village. 

Now that the journey was over, the prospect 
of seeing her husband assured, she wondered 
that she should be so burdened with the dread 
that sorrow awaited her. In vain she tried to 
comfort herself with God’s promises ; her mind 
could not grasp their meaning ; she could only 
offer fragmentary prayers that a great grief 
might be spared her and her children. 

At length they reached the. miserable village 
of huts, and, stopping at the first one, Ivan, at 
her request, asked for the one occupied by the 
exile Herr Tiefenbach. From the other huts 
came men, women, and children, robed from 
head to foot in the skins of reindeer, and sur- 
rounded the kibitka with eager curiosity. But 
none of them sprang forward with a cry of joy 
to welcome the wife and children, and the 
kibitka crept slowly along to the one pointed 


93 


. A Happy Meeting . 

out as the object of their search. But there 
was no sign of life about it, and, trembling 
with dread, Frau Tiefenbach descended, and, 
followed bj her children, undid the latch noise- 
lessly, and entered the miserable room. 

By a very small window, with oiled paper in- 
stead of glass, sat a man with his back toward 
the door, reading from an old book. He was 
robed in fur, and the tabs of his fur cap being 
over his ears prevented his hearing them enter. 

“George!” “Papa!” cried the joyful voices 
of wife and children, and Herr Tiefenbach 
sprang to his feet and turned to meet them, his 
face pale from astonishment. 

“Oh! heavenly Father,” murmured he, put- 
ting his hand to his forehead, “ tell me that I 
am not dreaming, or this is not a fiction of 
the imagination. Drive not an unfortunate 
husband and father to despair.” 

“No, dear husband,’' cried Frau Tiefenbach, 
“we are not spirits, but are here in the flesh; 
but so muffled in furs that it is no wonder you 
do not know us ; ” and then there were kisses 
and tears of joy, and thanks to God for his 
goodness. 


94 


The Siberian Exile . 


“Oh! what an undertaking for a tender wo- 
man,” said he, “what a great and perilous 
journey for you all! ” 

“ God was our protector and our guide; we 
were coming to you, and that compensated for 
all weariness and danger.” 

“You endured all this to visit me in my 
banishment,” said he, tenderly. 

“Not a visit; we have come to share your 
exile. Siberia shall be our second Fatherland, 
perhaps our grave, but where yon are, there we 
are content to live and die.” 

“Thank God! thank God!” said he, looking 
up to heaven, “you have given me new life; I 
can endure anything now that you are with me ; 
but Otto, our baby boy, where is he?” 

“We all thought him too young to undertake 
the journey, so Bisika, Minka, and our faithful 
Bindnagel are taking care of him, and our good 
Panutins and other friends are caring for him 
as though he were their own. Some time, God 
willing, we will send for him, if we cannot go 
to him.” 

“But this miserable hut ; how can you share 
it with me ? ” 


95 


A Happy Meeting. 

“We will not share it, my husband, we will 
give it up and get a better one,” replied Erau 
Tiefenbach. “You do not know how rich I 
am. The good Bindnagel saved all the money 
you had in the office, and I was allowed to 
keep some furniture, which I sold to advantage, 
and the money I had in bank is still there 
waiting until we need it. We can live here 
cheaper than in Moscow, and now that we are 
together, who shall say we cannot be happy ? ” 

“Yes, thank my heavenly Father; no more 
loneliness for me, no more dread of sickness 
and no one to sit by my bedside ; the whole 
dreary past gone, never to return,” said Herr 
Tiefenbach, deeply moved. 

Oscar and Natalie had in the meantime been 
taking a survey of the habitation, and their 
verdict was not at all favorable. 

“It is not so good as the Government Rest, 
where we staid the night we got off the road,” 
said Oscar. 

“No, but just wait until mother has time to 
fix it,” said Natalie, “she could make a prison 
cell seem a cheerful place.” 

But the parents had decided not to remain 


96 


The Siberian Exile. 


there, and with a small addition to the rent, 
they became possessors of the best lint in the 
village of Tscherbola. Certainly it was not to 
be compared with their little cottage in Mos- 
cow, yet it was snch a great improvement upon 
the other hut, that Herr Tiefenbach was made 
very happy over the change. 

With another small outlay they had some 
necessary housekeeping articles brought from 
Irkutsk, and the father felt that he was in a 
new world, so comfortable and happy was he 
in his humble home. When the weather out- 
side was thirty degrees below zero, and the 
east wind howled about the corners of the cot- 
tage, and the cry of the hungry wolf was heard, 
they were filled with gratitude that they were 
sheltered, had their palatable meals, enjoyed 
sweet, refreshing sleep, and were leading the 
earnest Christian lives in Siberia that they had 
led in Germany and Russia. 

Another thing that added greatly to their 
happiness was the resolve made by Ivan Jano- 
witsch to remain in Irkutsk, at least until he 
had a call to take a passenger to Moscow. The 
kibitka and horses belonged to him, and he 


A Happy Meeting . 97 

found he could make use of them in Irkutsk as 
well as in Moscow. He had become attached 
to the family of Herr Tiefenbach, and he 
seemed to them a connecting link with their old 
home, and was always welcome at their cottage. 

It was a long winter, but not at all an un- 
happy one to the exile and his family. 

The father was teacher of his children, and 
they learned rapidly, and, in addition to other 
studies, acquired the Russian language. Though 
the weather was intensely cold, they went out 
every day, and were surprised that they kept 
so well and strong. 

At length the long, cold winter passed away, 
and spring took its place. Snow and ice were 
disappearing, grass was springing up in pro- 
tected places, and pine and fir trees, larches 
and birches and mallows were decked in ten- 
der green. The farmers were again in the 
fields, and the air was jubilant with the songs 
of birds. Siberia, like the rest of the world, 
rejoiced in the advent of spring. 

The children accompanied their father in his 
hunting expeditions, for they longed for a change 
of diet from the dried fish and flesh which had 


6 


98 The Siberian Exile. 

been their winter store ; and wild ducks, geese, 
partridges and squirrels gave them abundant 
and nourishing food, while their net, when cast 
in the river, never returned empty ; and for all 
these blessings they were grateful. 

Herr Tiefenbach was fortunate sometimes to 
capture animals wearing costly furs, such as 
sable, silver fox, and ermine, which he sold, 
adding greatly to their income ; the mink sable 
also selling well. For the best sable fur he re- 
ceived from twenty to fifty dollars; for the 
black fox, from ten to fifteen ; and the ermine 
brought him several groschen apiece. He also 
sold bear skins, and those of the wolf and the 
otter ; and he frequently captured lynxes, gray 
foxes, martens, and other small animals, for 
their fur. 

The little family strove to make the best of 
circumstances, working faithfully at whatever 
their hands found to do, striving in all ways to 
do their duty to God and man ; yet it must not 
be taken for granted that a man exiled from 
home and friends and a prosperous business, 
his property confiscated to the government, 
and for no fault of his own, could be altogether 


99 


A Happy Meeting. 

contented. Neither could it be expected that 
a lady accustomed to all the refinements and 
luxuries of civilized life could be quite satisfied 
away from what she looked upon as necessa- 
ries, with no society, no church privileges, no 
change from the monotonous life they were 
compelled to live. 

But they were there, and were resolved that 
the people about them should be benefited so 
far as possible by their sojourn among them, 
by setting the example of a godly fife, and do- 
ing what they could to aid their poor neigh- 
bors to do the same. But when the village was 
wrapped in slumber, and her children were 
sleeping the peaceful sleep of happy childhood, 
Frau Tiefenbach’s pillow would frequently be 
wet with tears of longing for little Otto. She 
had no fears but he would have the tender 
care she would have given him, but she grieved 
for a sight of her son. 

The father also could scarcely conceal his 
longing when he called to mind the happy 
voice of the little one, “ Papa, dear papa, what 
have you brought your little Otto ? ” 

At length these thoughts, kept so long in 


100 


The Siberian Exile. 


silence by Frau Tiefenbach, must be spoken, 
and, during the second winter of their sojourn 
in Tcherbola, she told her husband and chil- 
dren of her resolution. 

“When spring comes,” said she, “I will 
return to Moscow and bring my boy. Do not 
hinder me, dear husband, I must go, for I can 
imagine him saying, ‘you promised to come 
for me, mother; don’t you love your little Otto 
any more ? ’ ” 

Herr Tiefenbach had expected this, yet his 
heart ached at the thought of the long journey 
for the devoted mother; he said nothing, how- 
over, to discourage her, for he saw the hope was 
comforting, and had faith that if she did under- 
take it, all would be well, and nothing could be 
much worse for her than the wearing anxiety 
to see her child. 

The second winter passed and spring was 
again there, and Frau Tiefenbach was making 
preparations for her journey. Ivan Janowitsch 
had returned months before to Bussia with the 
family of an exile who had died, and they had 
to secure another conveyance. The weather 
was growing favorable, and with feverish im- 


101 


A Happy Meeting . 

patience Frau Tiefenback walked to Irkutsk to 
obtain her pass from the governor. 

She returned in a drosky driven at a rapid 
rate, descended the moment it halted at the 
door, and rushing in, clasped her husband in 
her arms. 

“Oh, George, my husband, my beloved, you 
are free ! free ! Oh ! I could utter that blessed 
word a thousand times! Thanks to our merci- 
ful Father in heaven, you are now no longer 
an exile. Children, your father is free, and we 
can all return to Moscow,” and she threw her- 
self weeping upon the breast of her husband. 

“Can it be true,” said he, slowly, “are you 
sure you heard aright? Can it be true that I 
am pardoned, when they made such a clear 
case against me ? ” 

“ Believe, and doubt not,” answered his wife, 
“ the governor himself told me that you are free, 
and showed me the papers with the signature 
of the Czar.” 

“ He said nothing in regard to the influence 
brought to bear upon it?” inquired Herr 
Tiefenback. 

“Nothing, nothing, only that your pass will 


102 


The Siberian Exile . 


be ready for you ; you are to bave free trans- 
portation back to Moscow, and your property 
is all to be restored to you. Ob ! Otto, my son, 
my son, I am coming, we are all coming back 
to you.” 

“Let us give tbanks to God for tbis great 
mercy,” said Herr Tiefenbacb, and kneeling in 
tbe midst of tbe bttle circle, be uttered a prayer 
of thanksgiving, not only that be was a free 
man, but that tbe stain bad been removed from 
bis name ; for be knew that bad tbis not been 
tbe case, be would not bave been permitted to 
return to Bussia. 

* 


CHAPTER IX. 

A FREE MAN. 

A BOUT the middle of May, 1812, the fam- 
ily of Herr Tiefenbach took their depart- 
ure from Siberia for Moscow. It was the most 
pleasant time of the year in that country, but 
their hearts were buoyant with the thought of 
leaving to return to home and friends. The 
humble villagers of Tscherbolo were sad to part 
with them, but rejoiced with them over their 
good fortune. 

Beside the kibitka furnished them for travel- 
ing, a wagon followed loaded with furs and the 
skins of the wild animals captured by Herr 
Tiefenbach ; some of them being intended as 
presents to the Panutins and other dear friends. 
In it also were several articles of furniture they 
wished to keep as mementos of their sojourn, 
all the rest being divided among their neigh- 
bors. 

They were to stop at Irkutsk to get their 
103 


104 


The Siberian Exile . 


passes from the governor, and Oscar left the 
kibitka to accompany his father. All was set- 
tled satisfactorily, the governor had congratu- 
lated Herr Tiefenbach, and wished him a pleas- 
ant journey; but, alas! when they returned to 
the kibitka, Oscar stepped upon the wheel to 
ascend, the horses started, it turned and threw 
him off, and the wheel passing over him broke 
one of his limbs. 

Pale with distress, Herr Tiefenbach picked 
the poor boy up in his arms, and carried him 
into the hotel, followed by the weeping mother 
and sister. A isurgeon was sent for and the limb 
set and bandaged ; but they were assured that 
it would not be safe to continue their journey 
for several weeks. 

In addition to their deep sorrow and anxiety 
for the suffering boy, was the bitter disappoint- 
ment of remaining away from Otto, and the 
mother wept many tears. 

Poor Oscar, though not knowing the depth 
of their disappointment, for they concealed it 
carefully from him, begged them to leave him 
at the inn and proceed upon their journey, and 
he would follow when the surgeon gave him 


A Free Man . 


105 


leave. But to this the parents would not listen ; 
but when not in his presence the mother could 
not help repining over their change of plans. 

‘‘But, mother,” said Natalie, “ you have 
always told us that the dear God often sends 
small misfortunes upon us to preserve us from 
greater ones; have you forgotten that?” 

Frau Tiefenbach reddened at the words, and 
was silent for a time. 

“ But I cannot see what evil this misfortune 
could prevent ; the way seems all dark to me 
now,” replied she, weepinglv. 

“But think, dear Leontine,” said her hus- 
band, tenderly, “that all your grieving cannot 
change matters. You have been so brave and 
cheerful all through my misfortunes that it 
grieves me to see you so discouraged at only a 
temporary delay. One week ago, we had no 
hope that I would be free, now we are all going 
home together. Oscar’s accident is a trial of 
our faith and confidence in God ; he has led us 
safely through deep waters, and now that we 
are in sight of land, we should not be so un- 
grateful as to murmur. Think of our distress 
had the dear boy been killed.” 


106 


The Siberian Exile. 


“ Oh ! I am ungrateful to complain ! ” said 
Frau Tiefenbach. “ In my anxiety to see my 
absent son, I am forgetful of the great bless- 
ing of having Oscar spared to us. But I 
promise you I will not harass you with my 
complainings and tears any longer.” 

Frau Tiefenbach was true to her promise , 
with prayer and supplication she strove for 
patience and submission, and the serenity 
which characterized her returned. The hours 
passed by the bedside of Oscar were not with- 
out blessing to both, and her readings to him, 
her counsel, and her tender ministrations, were 
never forgotten by him. 

Time passed on, and the limb was sufficiently 
healed for the bandages to be removed, and 
the last week in July the surgeon said it would 
do him no harm to continue the journey, and 
with happy hearts they again set out for Mos- 
cow. But after traveling several hundred 
miles they again met with delays, owing to 
being unable to obtain a change of horses. 
This was due to the unsettled state of the 
country, brought about by the covetous ambi- 
tion of one man, Napoleon Bonaparte. With 


A Free Man. 


107 


an immense army, lie had left beautiful France 
for a campaign against Russia, and in the early 
part of July was on his way to Smolensk. He 
was joined by many allies on his march through 
Germany, and had obtained several victories, 
and the Russians finding him too powerful to 
conquer in any other way, destroyed their pro- 
perty to keep it from falling into his hands. A 
great many horses were needed, and the 
scarcity of them at the post-stations made 
delays for the Tiefenbach family very trying 
to their patience. But at length they reached 
the border land between Asia and Bussia, 
where they met a company of convicts bound 
for the mines of Trans-Baikal, which lay about 
forty miles beyond Irkutsk. Chained together, 
they were trudging along through sun and rain, 
weary, miserable, despairing. 

“Oh! husband!” said Frau Tiefenbach, 
“there is Klinsky among the convicts.” 

“And there are others of my former work- 
men,” replied Herr Tiefenbach, turning pale 
with surprise. “Can it be possible that they 
were guilty of injuring the cloth, and it has 
been discovered?” 


108 


The Siberian Exile. 


“That may be the case, and the guilt fast- 
ened upon the offenders has removed the sus- 
picion from you, who are innocent ; therefore 
freedom has been given you.” 

The convicts recognized their former em- 
ployer, and were so bowed with shame that 
they turned their heads to avoid seeing him. 

He asked his driver to tell one of them he 
wished him to come to the carriage, and after 
a moment he presented himself. 

“It was all the fault of Klinsky,” he said, in 
response to Herr Tiefenbach’s questioning. 
“He bribed us to sprinkle sulphuric acid 
through the rolls of cloth the very night be- 
fore they were delivered to the government 
office, and told us to take several yards of 
cloth off some of the rolls.” 

Herr Tiefenbach’s face flushed with indigna- 
tion at the treachery of the man to whom he 
had always been kind, and he would have re- 
sented it there and then, had not better 
thoughts came to him. He compared his 
position with that of Klinsky, and felt that it 
would be cruel to add one drop of bitterness 
to the cup already full. 


The Free Man. 


109 


He, and his loved wife and children were 
returning to a good home, all in health, his 
good name and property restored ; the other, a 
wretched convict, a prisoner perhaps for life, 
doomed to labor in the mines, and being driven 
like cattle to their destination. 

After giving all the information he could, the 
man returned to his place ; and Herr Tiefen- 
bach, calling his driver to him, put five rubles 
in his hand and pointing Klinsky out to him, 
bade him give them, and with them his words 
of sympathy for his misfortune, and forgive- 
ness for the harm he had done an innocent 
man. 

The driver did as he was told, and from the 
carriage the family watched the result. 

Klinsky’s first impulse was to send the 
money back, but apparently another thought 
came to him, he took it and put it in a place of 
safety, and stepping forward he raised one 
arm, the other being chained, and made his 
appeal. 

“Herr Tiefenbach,” said he, “avenge the 
injury done you and me, upon the French 
secretary of the Prince Bibikoff. It is he who 


110 


The Siberian Exile. 


is the cause of all our misfortunes. He gave 
us the sulphuric acid to sprinkle upon the 
cloth, and then betrayed us; and Schumaloff, 
Androwitsch, Hanetzky, and myself are con- 
victs, while he slipped his head from the noose 
and is free.” 

The countenance of the wretched man was 
so full of hate and malice that Frau Tiefenbach 
and the children could scarcely look upon him 
without dread; yet she w^as about to speak a 
pitying word, when the Cossack, swinging his 
knout, rode up and commanded the convicts to 
fall into line to march on their way, and in a 
few minutes the carriage of Herr Tiefenbach 
moved briskly onward, and they saw Klinsky 
and his associates no more. 

“ I always suspected Klinsky of being the 
offender,” remarked Herr Tiefenbach, “but I 
had no idea that he had so many associated 
with him to work my ruin. It must add to his 
wretchedness to have met us, though I said 
not a word to humiliate him ; and from my 
heart I pity him.” 

“But some of our friends must have inter- 
ested themselves to sift the matter to the foun- 


The Free Man. 


Ill 


elation, and to put the guilt where it belonged. 
Who of them do you suppose it was? ” inquired 
his wife. 

“Perhaps Bindnagel or Panutin. They are 
energetic, and faithful to me ; and Panutin has, 
I know, influential friends. I hope whoever it 
was will make themselves known, that I may 
thank them.” 

“What will you do in regard to the French 
secretary? He deserves punishment for his 
treachery to you.” 

“I shall leave him in the hands of a just 
God ; he cannot escape his all-searching eye.” 

When they reached Nichnei-Novgorod, they 
heard startling reports of the invasion of Rus- 
sia by Napoleon. The French had stormed 
Smolensk, had won the battle of Borodino, and 
were on their way to attack Moscow — news 
which caused the travelers great anxiety; but 
they could travel no faster, and could only 
pray that all would be well with the little fami- 
ly in the cottage. 

Herr Tiefenbach strove to interest them 
more than ever in the country through which 
they were passing, and again questioned the 


112 


The Siberian Exile. 


children about their journey to Siberia, dwelling 
upon the little incidents and adventures, which 
he had heard frequently during the long win- 
ter evenings in their hut at Tscherbola, hoping 
to keep the mother’s mind from dwelling too 
much upon the danger to which little Otto 
might be exposed. 

“He is in God’s care,” he would say when 
she expressed her anxiety, “and without his 
knowledge a sparrow cannot fall to the ground. 
How much more, then, will he care for the lit- 
tle ones whose angels see his face ? ” 


CHAPTER X. 

A HAPPY REUNION. 

T HE reports which Herr Tiefenbach heard 
of the threatened attack upon Moscow 
were too true; the French army was marching 
toward it, and by order of Alexander I., all the 
archives of the kingdom, important papers and 
documents of every kind were removed to a 
safe place. The nobles and other citizens fol- 
lowed his example and removed all their jewels 
and valuables, and it was decided that rather 
than have their beloved city fall into the hands 
of the enemy, they would set it on fire and 
destroy it. 

The faithful Bindnagel was keeping watch 
over the signs of the times, and while the resi- 
dents of Moscow were fleeing from the destruc- 
tion to come, he concluded to remain in the 
cottage in the suburbs, with the hope that, 
being some distance from the main part of the 
city, they could escape upon short notice, if 
8 113 


114 


The Siberian Exile. 


clanger should come. Bisika, Minka and Otto 
were alarmed at first over the nearness of the 
enemy, but he tranquillized them by telling 
them that the French soldiers would never 
notice a poor little cottage like theirs, knowing 
it would contain nothing valuable. 

So, with this thought in mind, they were 
satisfied to remain, and were deeply interested 
in watching the long trains of droskys and 
equipages of every kind, bearing away the 
treasures belonging to wealthy citizens of Mos- 
cow, to place them in a place of security. 

In some instances where horses could not be 
obtained, men and women were pulling the 
wagons, and even cows and dogs were pressed 
into service. 

Trebillon, Prince BibikofFs secretary, did 
not accompany him, but remained secretly in 
Moscow for several reasons ; one being that the 
invaders were his own people; secondly, he 
had heard that Herr Tiefenbach was on his 
way to his home, and the danger to himself of 
being yet arraigned for his treachery, and ban- 
ished to Siberia, would be less by remaining, 
than if he made himself prominent by being in 


115 


A Happy Reunion . 

the retinue of the Prince Bibikoff; thirdly, 
lie could obtain rich booty left by the citizens 
in their flight from Moscow, for the residents 
had all left. 

But these fine plans came to nothing, for the 
governor, Count Bostopchin, gave orders that 
the criminals should be liberated from the 
prisons on condition that they should fire the 
city in every quarter, which was done ; his own 
splendid palace being among the first to go up 
in flames. It was a bold move, but by thus 
destroying the resources of Napoleon, the whole 
Russian Empire was saved. 

At the sight of splendid temples, mosques, pa- 
laces, churches, bridges, and other costly build- 
ings being destroyed by the deadly element, 
and the hot sparks and brands flying in all di- 
rections, Bindnagel regretted that he had not 
left the cottage and taken refuge at the orphan- 
age, as Herr Panutin had kindly suggested. 

He had remained, thinking they would not 
be molested by the French, and also thinking 
that if Herr Tiefenbach were on his way home, 
he would come directly to the cottage, and 
would be distressed not to find them there. 


116 


The Siberian Exile. 


But the burning of Moscow by its own peo- 
ple — its suicide, as it were — was something 
Bindnagel had not counted upon, and he had 
made no arrangements for it, and was grateful 
that Herr Panutin’s offer stood open for a 
stampede from fire, as well as from an invasion 
of the French. 

The orphanage was a large stone building, 
so far out of Moscow as to be entirely secure 
from the fire, and thither he and his charges 
hastened. 

Small and inconvenient as the cottage was, 
Bisika had become attached to it, and wept at 
leaving it, but Minka and Otto were too much 
interested in watching the great blaze and the 
flying faggots to give any time to regrets, had 
they felt them. 

At length they reached the top of a hill 
which stood between Moscow and the govern- 
ment orphanage, and Bindnagel listened to 
other sounds than those of the roaring, crack- 
ling flames. 

“ Stand close together here; I hear troops 
coming, and I hope they will not run over us,” 
said he. 


A Happy Reunion. 117 

There was danger, indeed, for it was Napo- 
leon Bonaparte and his followers fleeing from, 
the Kremlin, the smoke and heat being too* 
great to endure, and they were going to the 
palace of Petrowsky, one of the residence of 
the Czar, about an hour’s journey from Mos- 
cow. After they passed, Bindnagel and his 
little family walked on to the orphanage, and, 
after seeing them hospitably received by the 
good Herr Panutin and his wife, Bindnagel re- 
turned to the smouldering city. For several 
days and nights the fire had raged, and had 
destroyed eight thousand buildings, making a 
loss of at least three hundred and twenty-one 
millions of rubles. Such was but one of the 
results of the war, for the loss in buildings was 
not the greatest loss. Thousands of lives had 
been sacrificed, sixty thousand soldiers having 
fallen at the battle of Borodino alone, and thou- 
sands more having been wounded, all to gratify 
foolish ambition for power and conquest. It 
was the middle of September, in the year 1812, 
that Moscow was given up to the terrible con- 
flagration ; and four days after the battle of 
Borodino, Napoleon again entered Moscow 


118 


The Siberian Exile. 


with his army, and found the once beautiful 
city a ruin. On the streets were pieces of 
handsome furniture partly destroyed by fire, 
pianos from Vienna, Chinese porcelain, Turk- 
ish tapestry, and valuable paintings — all in the 
same condition. Soldiers drank from solid 
silver cups, or broiled their meat over the 
glowing coals of some noble building. 

He remained thirty-five days, and after pro- 
visions could no longer be obtained there for 
such an immense company, they commenced 
plundering the neighboring villages and farm- 
houses, but were, for want of subsistence, 
compelled to beat a retreat, and set out for 
France, October 19, 1812. 

Napoleon Bonaparte had reached the limit 
of his prosperity, and his retreat from Moscow 
was one of the most striking scenes of human 
suffering ever experienced ; being that of a 
brave, devoted army suffering the horrors of 
famine in a climate so cold that their frozen 
bodies strewed the roads, while a phalanx of 
enraged Cossacks followed the main army, 
hewing down the poor half-starved creatures 
all the way to Poland, causing them to leave 


A Happy Reunion. 


119 


the trophies which Napoleon had ordered to 
be taken to France ; the splendid iron and 
gold cross from a church tower in the Krem- 
lin, which was twelve ells high, being sunk in 
a swamp in Russia. 

After the enemy disappeared, the people of 
Moscow came back to it, and many tears were 
shed over the ruins of their homes. * 

Among the first to arrive at the scene of 
desolation was Herr Tiefenbach and his family, 
and they went directly to the place where had 
stood the cottage where they had left Otto. 

For a moment they remained there, uncer- 
tain what to do, when, hearing voices, they 
turned and saw Bindnagel leading Otto by the 
hand, and followed by Risika and Minka. 

With a cry of joy the mother took her boy 
in her arms, kissed him and wept tears of glad- 
ness that he was well and happy, and had 
grown so much during her absence. She 
warmly thanked the three who had taken such 
good care of him, and the father promised a 
more substantial token of gratitude from both 
when he could be in a home once more. 

“Herr and Frau Panutin told us to bring 


120 The Siberian Exile. 

you directly there, if we found you,” said 
Bindnagel; “they say they have a suite of 
rooms unoccupied, and you are more than 
welcome to them until you can get a house 
of your own.” 

“The good Panutins!” said Frau Tiefen- 
bach, gratefully; “how can we recompense 
them for their goodness to us all.” 

“We will gladly accept their invitation; 
Otto can ride in the kibitka with us, and you, 
Bindnagel, and Kisika, and Minka can go in 
the wagon, and all can reach there at the same 
time,” said the father. 

They had all taken their places except Herr 
Tiefenbach, when he heard a voice he thought 
he recognized, and turning he saw the secre- 
tary of the Prince Bibikoff. He was pleading 
with some Russian soldiers to be allowed to 
remain in his wagon, to which was attached 
a fine pair of horses, and in it were furs, silver- 
ware, jewelry, and valuables of all kinds, which 
the soldiers were about to make him surrender. 

“Is there no officer among you?” cried the 
secretary, plaintively, “no general, no mar- 
shall, who will protect me?” 


A Hcipjpy Reunion . 121 

The only answer was a push with the butt 
of a bayonet, which sent him to the ground, 
and the soldiers climbed in and took posses- 
sion. As he had once driven Herr Tiefenbach 
from his house and home, so was he now 
driven from the shelter of his wagon out in 
the bitter cold, and his possessions taken from 
him ; and, seeing the man whom he had caused 
to be banished standing beside him, he put his 
hand before his face and fled. 

The little family were cordially received at 
the orphanage, and remained there until a new 
dwelling upon the site of their former one was 
erected and ready for occupancy, when they 
took possession. It was a happy day for the 
working people who had been employed by 
Herr Tiefenbach, when they heard he had re- 
turned to Moscow ; and as soon as the factory 
was again in running order they were all re- 
called, and responded gladly. Bindnagel was 
again manager, and a spinning-woman was 
appointed to teach Minka to spin, that being 
one of her ambitions, and when she became an 
expert spinner, which she quickly did, she re- 
ceived the same wages as the others. 


122 


The Siberian Exile. 


She and Risika and Bindnagel were all 
members of the happy — because Christian — 
family of their employer; and the day in 
which they were all united again under one 
roof was a happy one indeed. The anni- 
versary of their taking possession was ever 
after held as a festival of thanksgiving; the 
evening always being concluded by a grateful 
prayer, and the singing of the sweet words: 
“ Praise God, he is our guide and friend.” 



























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